


Leaving Without Moving

by northern



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco - Fandom
Genre: AU, D/s, M/M, Vampires, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northern/pseuds/northern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not trying to embarrass you or anything here. But seriously, I'm just trying to make things clear - what you want is to be my own personal little toy, is that it? You want to be my pet in the... <i>pet</i> sense?"</p><p>"Not if you're not interested," Ryan gritted out, hot with shame. "You can stop making fun of me now. That was fucking hard to say." He rested his head on his arms, feeling weak and slightly nauseated with how his stomach was churning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving Without Moving

The used bookstore was one of Ryan's favorites. It always smelled good, like old paper and dust, it was open late, plus the old lady owner never minded if he sat for hours in the worn leather armchair, reading. There was so much that never made it onto the Internet. Sure, he could find wiki pages about Wittgenstein and people's private projects about Rimbaud, but the full length texts themselves were kind of hard to find. In the shelves at the very back of the store there were rows and rows of paperbacks and hardbacks, full of theories and thinking and _words_. There was so much thinking people had done already - sometimes it seemed almost too much.

But he'd sat here most nights this year until closing, unless Spencer wanted him over at his place for movies, or (more rare) homework help. Sometimes Spencer even sat with him, reading from the comics section or old Science Fiction pulp paperbacks which he mocked mercilessly. Currently, Ryan was alone, since Spencer's family had dragged him along for a week long camping trip which Ryan had only narrowly escaped by claiming that he was coming down with a cold. Spencer had called him a bullshit liar, but he'd gone all the same, and let Ryan stay home where there were no ants, scorpions or snakes readily available.

Ryan was reading _Candide_, which he had hid behind some Nora Roberts novels a week ago so no one would buy it before he could read it. He wasn't sure if the "We live in the best of worlds" thing was meant as satire, or if that was what Voltaire actually thought. Probably the former, because Voltaire seemed to like to mock. A lot of old writers like that did, and it made Ryan feel like he was in on something normal people around him usually weren't thinking about. One of his favorites was Swift, with his baby steaks thing. Ryan had almost laughed aloud at that one.

There weren't all that many actual customers this late, but the ones who did come tended to leave Ryan alone, which suited him just fine. People in general weren't very interesting. Mostly, all they thought about were things like what to make for dinner or their kids or mortgages or whatever. It wasn't like he was ever going to live until he was thirty anyway, so all that just felt ridiculous and unnecessary. Ryan liked philosophy, and music. A lot of other people liked music too, but they seemed either way too cool for him to even try, or much too superficial for him to bother. No one liked philosophy. Well, Spencer tolerated philosophy, he guessed.

Spencer might live until he was thirty. Ryan suspected he would, even though they'd made a pact that they'd commit suicide before they ever got to the boring adult family part. That was two years ago, though, and Ryan wasn't blind. He could see Spencer becoming more sure of himself, more optimistic, more like the rest of his family. He wasn't spending less time with Ryan, or suddenly getting new wholesome friends or anything, but Ryan could feel it lurking there, the worry that Spencer wouldn't stay forever. That he'd eventually discover that Ryan wasn't worth the trouble and just move on. And then there would be just Ryan.

He hadn't looked at the words for a bit, and when he looked up, there was someone standing in front of him.

"Hi there, do you work here? I'm looking for a gift."

The speaker looked like he was maybe a couple of years older, with dorky dark hair, clunky red glasses and a blinding grin. Ryan blinked and put his book down. Why people sometimes thought a seventeen year old emo kid who was clearly engrossed in a book worked there was a mystery to him.

"Um, no, sorry, there should be someone up at the counter who can help you," he said.

The customer tilted his head a bit, looking at him for one quiet moment, his grin fading down to a more normal smile. "I don't think they're very good about manning the counter here," he said, almost conspiratorally. "You sure you don't have any tips on what to buy? You look like you're familiar with the classics, and Travis could use something besides mystery novels."

Ryan guessed it couldn't help to be polite. "Well I guess," he said, standing up. "What's this Travis like, then? Is he a Homeros guy, or Chaucer, or what?"

The customer laughed a bit to himself. "Well Travis," he said, "Travis is... juicy," he said with relish. Ryan wondered if that was supposed to be some kind of book metaphor, or maybe just a gay thing. He guessed the glasses were a bit gay. And the skinny jeans. Although if skinny jeans were gay, then both him and Spencer would be gay, and, yeah.

"Uh, okay," Ryan said, wondering why he'd even offered to help. "I meant, what's his style? What kind of author do you think he'd enjoy?"

"Umm," the guy said, tapping his lower lip with his fingers. "Umm, he likes music a lot, but not so much with the classical kind. More emo bands and the like. We've been... close for a while. He's, uh, brought me food a lot. Yeah. Except now he's moving across the country to get on with his life. Studies and such, I expect." He looked a bit sad.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said reflexively, and he got a surprised look back.

"Oh no, it's not like that's a bad thing. I don't expect anyone to stay very long. It's not really healthy in the long run."

Ryan felt confused at that, and it must have shown, because the customer rubbed the side of his neck in an embarrassed way and smiled apologetically.

"Anyway," he said, "he likes hats too, but he's not as cute as you in them." He gestured vaguely at Ryan's news cap and Ryan automatically looked down, hiding his face behind it. He didn't like it when people mocked him.

"So," Ryan said, trying to get back to the topic at hand. "He likes music and to bring people food and now he's going to college. And you want to expand his reading experiences?"

He looked up again, and glasses guy was still smiling, in the non-embarrassed way. "Something like that," he replied. "I'm Brendon, by the way."

Ryan sighed. He had no idea why the customer had felt the need to introduce himself. "Hi, I'm Ryan," he mumbled unenthusiastically.

He showed the guy some of the classics he'd already read, that he supposed wouldn't be too hard to understand for someone new to reading seriously. This really wasn't his job. In the end Brendon chose two volumes to bring to the register, and Ryan went back to his chair and his book. He had less than an hour left before the store closed.

 

***

 

When Ryan finally got home, dragging his feet under the streetlights after parking his old pickup truck at Spencer's, there was someone leaning against the transformer box in front of his driveway. As he got closer, he recognized the guy from the bookstore, Brendon. He slowed down even more, walking closer to his house, but unsure what Brendon was doing there. The guy didn't _look_ threatening, but he'd read it was hard to tell with axe murderers. Not that it looked like Brendon could hide an axe anywhere on him, with his tight jeans and simple hoodie.

"I thought I'd meet you back here," Brendon said when Ryan got close enough. He was smiling again. Ryan wasn't sure he'd ever met someone who smiled that much, unless they were some kind of religious freak. Which, maybe would explain what Brendon was doing here, which would be so, so awkward. Ryan hated evangelists.

"How did you know where I live?" It was actually _really_ suspicious, when he thought about it.

"Oh, I saw where you were headed and then asked some people where on the street Ryan lived," Brendon replied sunnily. He levered himself up and sat on the transformer box. "I had some things I'd like to discuss with you."

"Like what?" Ryan didn't want to get too close, just in case, but he waited at the fence, leaning on one hip. "Look, if you're gonna try and tell me I need to be saved or something, I'm really not interested."

Brendon giggled - actually giggled. A lot. "Not exactly," he said, white teeth shining in a big grin when he got himself under control. "Um, kind of, really, the opposite."

Ryan frowned. "What? Are you a satanist or something?"

"No, no," Brendon said, "nothing religious at all."

Ryan relaxed some, because really, he _hated_ those people.

"I'm a vampire," Brendon said and smiled some more.

Ryan stared and blinked. So, a crazy guy. "Um," he said, inching closer to his driveway.

"No really," Brendon continued. "I know, it seems a bit improbable and all, but you see, I was looking for someone not too invested in everyday life, for... shall we say, a relationship of mutual benefit. Since Travis is leaving. I told you about Travis, remember?" What he was saying was so unlikely that Ryan was almost tempted to stay and hear Brendon explain his whole crazy delusion, just to be able to tell Spencer about it, but no, it was very late and no one else was out on the street and although Brendon was clearly shorter than him, Ryan knew crazy people could be unexpectedly strong. So.

"I would never come even close to killing you, naturally," Brendon was saying, and yes, this was getting much too creepy. "Unless you wanted me to, of course. Some people are like that, it's weird." He laughed a little. It didn't sound very reassuring.

 

"I think you should go home now," Ryan said, backing up toward his front door and eyeing Brendon's smile uneasily. Brendon wasn't following, but he wanted to make absolutely sure he didn't. "It's completely impossible that you're a vampire. Go home and take your meds."

"What, no," Brendon said, "you haven't even seen... Come on, look. Here's my fangs, see?" And he grinned again, and Ryan guessed he must have put in some fairly good quality fake vampire teeth while he wasn't looking because, yeah, he would have noticed those things before. This was just getting too strange for him.

"Um, no. Bye now!" he called and dashed in as dignified a way as he could manage to the door, quickly shutting it behind him and locking it. He looked out the window a few minutes later, just to check, but Brendon was gone.

 

***

 

There was no trace of Brendon outside the next day either. Ryan checked before he went out, quietly, so as not to disturb his dad. He'd planned on taking his car downtown to see Fall Out Boy, but on second thought he called Brent and talked him into giving him a ride, since Brent was going anyway too. If Spencer would have been home he'd have gone with him. Brendon had rattled him a bit, and he'd rather not go alone as it was. Ryan knew he'd die whenever he died, but the reality of some crazy guy killing him with fake vampire teeth or whatever seemed like the punchline of some stupid joke. He'd texted Spencer about what happened last night, in bed, and had gotten a "O.O" back and not much more. Ryan guessed he was busy with family stuff.

He spent the afternoon at the mall a couple of blocks away, idly looking at clothes and writing down random things in his notebook. It was boring, but he didn't particularly want to go back to the bookstore after last night. Maybe he could go back in a week or so, and vampire Brendon would have moved on to other people to terrorize. The worst thing was that he knew where Ryan lived. Ryan really really hoped Brendon wasn't the fixating kind of crazy. He doodled a small vampire with a high collar and huge fangs in the margin of his notebook. It didn't look very proportionate.

Brent had two big bags of nachos in his car when he came to pick him up, and Ryan inhaled a good portion of them as they drove down to the venue. They were early, but there was already a small line outside the doors. He and Brent spent the waiting time playing spot the fail, like Ryan always did with Spencer. Ryan thought he was okay at it, but Brent really sucked. It was all about picking out the worst dressers and style failures, and Spencer was the absolute king of spot the fail, with scathing comments and all. Ryan missed his best friend.

The set was awesome, like all the times Ryan had seen Fall Out Boy. Patrick had a fan-fucking-tastic voice and Pete was so energetic he made Ryan bounce on his toes. It was great to just not think about anything else, go with the music. He had a decent spot close to the stage, but on the side, since he didn't feel like pushing his way to the front. It was getting close to the end and Ryan glanced towards the wall, trying to spot Brent, who didn't like standing in crowds at all. He didn't see him, but he did see something else that made him lose all interest in the band.

Crazy stalker vampire Brendon was less than twenty feet away from him, making out against the wall with some scenester guy Ryan didn't recognize.

Instantly, Ryan went cold from the thought of Brendon following him there. His second thought was, 'I was so right about the gay'. His third was to find Brent and make him drive him home, now. He craned his neck around, trying to see if Brent had migrated to the back of the room, but there was no sign of him. When he looked back to the wall, Brendon was sucking on whatever-guy's neck, and Ryan rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.

Ryan drifted slightly closer, just to make sure random scene guy wasn't going to get bit with fake vampire teeth and bleed out. The way he was limply tilting his head back, he didn't look entirely there. Pretty out of it, in fact, judging by the way all that seemed to be holding him up was Brendon, pressing him up against the wall. It looked... good. The guy's arms were hanging by his sides, like he had no intention of doing anything but standing there and taking it. Like it was so good that he couldn't do anything else.

 

Suddenly Brendon turned them around, so that Brendon was half against the wall and okay, it looked like the other guy could still stand up after all, even though he was pressed up as close as he could get to Brendon, and the expression on his slack-jawed face looked very much like ecstacy. Ryan took a few steps closer, and now they were angled so that Ryan could clearly see Brendon's lips stretched over the side of his neck, moving slowly with sucking motions. He even looked like he was swallowing. It made an uneasy feeling coalesce in Ryan's stomach and he flicked his gaze up to find Brendon watching him, a lazy dark expression in his eyes. He looked... dangerous. In control. It made him suddenly and uncomfortably hot, the image of himself under Brendon's gaze, under his hands, his mouth, appearing in his mind in startling detail.

 

Brendon lifted his mouth from scene guy's neck, and fuck, blood came pouring down from two holes in the skin. Ryan took a half step forward, not knowing if he wanted to help or just see better, but Brendon was already licking at the wounds, staring intently at Ryan all the while. The blood stilled easily under Brendon's tongue as he lapped up the overflow. Ryan was close enough to see clearly how unnaturally fast the skin seemed to knit together, healing while he watched, until there was only pink-white, stretched-looking skin where there had been blood welling only a minute ago. Disbelieving, Ryan stretched out his hand, unexplicably finding himself close enough to touch. Random scene guy _vampire victim_ was still leaning on Brendon, eyes closed and panting, and as soon as Ryan's fingers touched the skin where the holes had been, he arched, pushed back against Ryan's hand and moaned.

Fuck.

Ryan snatched his hand back and tore his gaze away from the exposed neck and Brendon's dark eyes. He turned around, feeling his heart trying to beat itself up through his throat. He didn't really see any details as he pushed himself quickly through the crowd, which was screaming for an encore.

 

***

 

Spencer called him the next morning and woke him up. Ryan had stayed up a long time last night, listening to his dad breaking things and swearing downstairs while he tried not to think about what had happened earlier, so he didn't appreciate being woken up at ten. Spencer's voice was excited, though.

"You have no idea what my dad just said," he opened.

Ryan kept his eyes closed, his thoughts still swirly with sleep. "Mm," he said, noncommittally.

"Are you awake?" Spencer said suspiciously. "You need to be awake for this. Come on, go to the kitchen, drink some coffee."

Ryan complained a bit, but in the end he walked downstairs. He made sure his dad was safely in his own bedroom and that no broken glass was on the floor before he ventured into the kitchen to turn the coffee maker on. Spencer kept up a steady line of harmless information about what his family was doing, stupid things the twins had said, the face-in-the-dirt fall his dad had taken yesterday. Ryan didn't feel much of a need to reply, so he kept to stray sighs and yawns and listened to the gurgling of coffee being made.

When it was done, he found his mug, poured coffee into it and sat at the kitchen table after pushing some crap away to make enough room. The sun was bright through the blinds and he still felt uncomfortably hazy around the edges, but the heat of the coffee mug against his hands and the smell promised a clearer mind in the near future. He took a sip and promptly scalded his tongue.

"Is that the coffee?" Spencer asked at his involuntary small noise of pain, interrupting Spencer's bitching about everything his mom thought chapstick was good for.

Ryan sighed and tried for a smaller sip this time. "Yes, I have coffee." With the actual sound of his own voice, the image of Brendon rhythmically swallowing blood appeared in his mind, and he set the coffee down, suddenly wide awake.

"So," Spencer began again, "you have no idea what my dad said."

"Uh, what?" Ryan asked, his mind mostly on trying to fit his memories from last night into some kind of mold, to be able to deal with them. Fuck.

"Okay, listen to this," Spencer said gleefully, "he said, he will personally _hire_ you after you graduate next year!"

"Um," Ryan said, his mind blank, except for images of flowing blood.

"Ryan?" Spencer said, his voice impatient. "So we can go to college together, like we said! It'll be perfect, you can earn some money while I finish my last year, and you could even move out if you wanted - he'll hire you for real!"

"Oh." All Ryan could think about was the way Brendon had kept his eyes locked with Ryan's as he... fed. It had been so intimate, as if Brendon knew something about Ryan that he himself didn't.

"Ry?" Spencer continued, "why aren't you saying anything?"

"Spencer," Ryan said, a question abruptly formulating itself in his mind, "Spencer, if you ever had to give up your family for something, would you do it?"

There was a small pause, as if Spencer was taken aback by the question. "Of course I wouldn't," he replied. "Ryan, what's this about? You know I'd never do anything like that."

If Ryan had suspected before that Spencer would finally go on without him, what he felt now was something more like knowledge. Spencer was the only one who knew enough of him, and he would leave. There would be no one, no one at all. It made him feel surprisingly empty inside.

"Ryan?" Spencer's voice continued. "Did something happen? What is it?"

"Nothing," Ryan said, closing his eyes. "It's nothing. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Wait, what? What's wrong?"

Ryan dropped his head to the table top. It made a painful thump, and he sighed, unable to hang up on Spencer's concern. "It's." He had no idea what to actually say. "Something... happened last night. I saw something."

He heard Spencer drawing in a breath to ask more questions, and suddenly he couldn't deal, not even for Spencer. "Look, I'll call you again later, okay?" he said quickly. "I can't think about this right now. Later."

There was silence, and then, eventually, "Okay. But you have to promise to actually call me back."

"I will. Later." He pressed the red button.

He needed to find a way to deal. Quickly.

 

  
***

 

Ryan made sure to be inside a long time before the sun set. He was pretty convinced Brendon would turn up at his house again tonight, and this time he wasn't taking any chances. There was no guarantee Ryan would stay alive just because that guy last night could stand up by himself once Brendon was finished. That still made him blink in shocked disbelief, thinking about it. He'd been so convinced that Brendon was just crazy, but there was just no way to fake what Ryan had seen. He was just amazed that no one else had seemed to have seen it. There had been plenty of people around, but they all seemed to have been looking the other way. All except for Ryan.

At sunset, he settled in on the couch by the living room window, so he could watch the street outside. There was no risk of his dad coming home before eleven, so he had time. He figured he should be safe talking to Brendon from behind a window. He wasn't even sure if the vampires having to be invited in thing worked. If it didn't, he was screwed anyway. But he needed to know what Brendon was after, and if he was _actually_ crazy, and so, yeah, talking.

He didn't have to wait more than an hour before Brendon appeared, walking up the street with his hands dug inside the pocket of his pink hoodie. Ryan randomly wondered if vampires ever got cold while Brendon got closer, stepping onto the front lawn and stopping right outside Ryan's window. Brendon smiled and waved, and Ryan, feeling bemused, lifted his hand hesitantly and put it down again. Brendon looked happy and geeky again - nothing like last night. He guessed the other look was for when he... fed. Brendon was gesturing to the bottom of the window, and Ryan slowly reached out and pushed it up, locking it so that only a small space appeared, letting in the night air.

"I mean, I can hear you just fine through that," Brendon said, "but if you want to hear what I have to say, we'll need that." He smiled wider. "Unless you're good at lip reading?"

"Not really," Ryan said, leaning back a bit from the window.

"Don't worry," Brendon said and to Ryan's alarm poked his fingers into the window gap. "I can't reach inside, and even if I tore the window off... see?" He wiggled his fingers and they made a kind of tapping sound as they touched what seemed like thin air, but was clearly the border between outside and inside.

"Oh," Ryan said faintly, looking at Brendon's fingers. It was all a bit much, even though he'd thought he'd prepared himself for what it might be like, having an actual conversation with a creature of the night.

"So," Brendon said. "As I was saying the other night, a relationship of mutual benefit." He rocked back and forth on his heels a few times, looking expectantly at Ryan through the window. He looked harmless like that, but the casual way in which he'd spoken of tearing the window off made something strange and not entirely unpleasant curl in Ryan's stomach.

"Does this possibly involve you drinking my blood?" Ryan asked, because really, what other reason could there be for Brendon being here?

Brendon quirked his lips, like Ryan had said something mildly funny. "Well yes, of course," he said. "Mostly, that's what vampires do with people. Eat them," he added, in case Ryan hadn't gotten it.

Ryan leaned forward toward the window. This felt so surreal it was almost comfortable. "I don't think I want to die just yet, if that's okay with you," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh no," Brendon said, "I don't enjoy killing people much. That's not what I do. Did you see tasty concert boy die yesterday?"

Ryan blinked, the memory of Brendon's dark, sated gaze suddenly superimposed in his mind.

"No, right?" Brendon continued. "I know a few vampires who like to kill, but I don't think that's very smart. If someone tastes good, it's much better just to have a little, so you can come back again and again. It doesn't really hurt them if you don't do it too often, and it's not like I need gallons and gallons of blood to stay alive. There's no point gorging."

"Um, okay," Ryan said, thinking of all the vampire movies he'd seen. "Isn't it hard to stop, though? If someone tastes good?"

Brendon tilted his head to the side. "Sometimes, a bit," he said. "But I've never killed a blood doll, and I've known some pretty delicious ones."

"What's a blood doll?" Ryan asked, pulling his feet up under him and leaning his chin into one hand.

"Oh," Brendon said, "a blood doll is a human who gets off on vampires. They like the blood drinking thing. That guy yesterday was one."

Ryan pondered that. "So, if I let you feed from me or whatever, it would be like that, like what you showed me?" He wasn't sure what he felt, except uncomfortably hot, putting himself in the position of the guy last night. He had looked seriously blissed out, but also pretty out of it.

Brendon peered in at him. "I don't think you're a blood doll, actually, but I could be wrong. Some people are just less obvious about it. You smell absolutely wonderful, though." He smiled.

"Is that why you keep following me? Because I smell good?"

Brendon made a face, like he was a bit embarrassed. "You do, very much so. But I also think you're pretty, and you seem like you're not stupid. Normally, with dolls, that doesn't matter much, but since you're probably not - it's nice to have intelligent conversation sometimes, you know?"

Ryan raised his eyebrows, reaching for something to say. "You make me sound like a geisha or something."

Brendon's expression brightened. "That's it exactly! That's what I want. You know, some pretty companionship, intelligent conversation, and, uh, entertainment." He waggled his eyebrows, which looked completely ridiculous.

"The entertainment being... blood?" Ryan asked slowly. "Or something else?"

Brendon looked more serious. "I'd need to feed from you two or three times a week," he said, "but I don't take much at a time, unless I'm hurt, but that almost never happens. I'm not the type to get into fights if I can help it. If I notice you starting to look peaky, I'd go out and find a snack. As I said, I'm not looking to kill you, or even inconvenience you much. I sure hope you're not anorexic, though. That's not very good for blood replenishing."

That was a lot of information, and a lot of assuming.

"Also," Brendon continued before Ryan had time to compose something to say, "there's the question of your reimbursment." He leaned forward, almost touching the window. "Most people like money. The last few people I've had needed some help with college funds. But there's also the more classic sugar daddy arrangement." He grinned at Ryan. "I buy you things you want."

"That sounds kind of... sordid," Ryan said, trying to think, to organize things in his mind. "Why not just buy blood bags from a hospital?"

Brendon wrinkled his nose. "It's not the same. They add stuff in."

"And besides," Ryan continued, finally thinking of something that seemed important, "is this what vampires do? Hire people? Isn't there ever something more than... business?"

"Oh," Brendon said, seemingly taken aback. He was quiet for a moment. "I haven't had a _relationship_ with a human for a long time," he finally said, "if that's what you're asking."

"Why not?" Brendon looked at him for a while, as if he was trying to puzzle out what Ryan was thinking. Ryan felt his face heat up, and he buried his chin deeper in his hand, fighting not to turn away entirely. Seriously, it was a good question.

"It tends to be a bad idea," Brendon said slowly, "for a lot of different reasons." He put his elbows on the windowsill, resting his head on the backs of his hands, almost mirroring Ryan's position. It put their faces closer to one another than before. Brendon looked pale, but then Ryan would have been surprised if he had had a tan. His eyes looked huge and dark in his face, now that he wasn't smiling, and Ryan was reminded again of how he had looked when he was feeding. It made Ryan feel small and exposed.

"Like what?" There was something half formed in the back of his mind that needed the answer.

"Look, most people have just met up with me a few times a week, we get done in an hour or less, they can go home. Are you trying to say you want to come live with me, leave your family, get into a relationship with someone you just met?" Brendon looked at him disbelievingly through the window pane. "You don't even want me to touch you. You're still afraid."

Ryan blushed hotly and hid his face against the top of the couch. It sounded completely stupid and insane said out loud. "I just wanted to know," he mumbled into the coarse fabric.

"Because, yes," Brendon pushed on, leaning against the window, "yes, I had a human pet once, and she was very sweet, and I loved her, and I had to watch her grow old. That hurt, Ryan. In the end it hurt a lot, and I didn't want to lose her, but I did."

"I'm sorry," Ryan said, wishing he'd never asked. "I'm sorry you lost someone. I just. I'd feel wrong... selling myself. It's like selling yourself for money, or things. I don't know."

Brendon sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "I don't suppose you can view it as donating blood?"

"Well, maybe," Ryan said, "but the people at the blood donors' place don't make you have sex." He blushed at that, looking away. That was a bit more straightforward than he'd meant to say. He didn't even know if it even had to be about sex all the time. All he knew was what he'd seen, and that had definitely looked like sex.

Brendon was quiet for a bit, obviously thinking. "True," he said finally. "Yes, it's going to have to be sexual, because if you don't get off on the biting, I'm going to have to distract you with something, and the easiest way of doing that is by getting you off. Or I could dope you up so you don't mind it, but I hate that, it makes the taste go really off." He looked strangely matter of fact about it, but then Ryan guessed you got that way after years and years of doing this.

"How old are you, anyway?" Ryan asked.

Brendon's lips quirked again. "Usually, they're like, 'Vampire, oh okay, hot!' but with you it's 'Questions! More questions! Questions galore!'"

"Sorry," Ryan said, feeling a little insulted, "but it's my blood and my body." Brendon _was_ pretty hot, in a very intense way when he wasn't putting his dorky face on, but it wasn't like Ryan was going to tell him that. He probably heard it all the time anyway, from those, dolls or whatever.

"It's okay, it's just a bit funny. I'm ninety... six, this year, yeah. Or nineteen, if you prefer that."

"Oh." Ryan considered that. He'd been thinking either just a couple of decades, or really really old. More the couple of decades. Brendon just didn't look or act that old. But maybe that was a vampire thing - blending with the surroundings to be a better predator or something.

"So," Brendon said, "what can I do to convince you to let me drink your blood, mm? Because I'm not going to attack you, no matter how good you smell - that's just wrong."

Ryan licked his lips. He had had an idea in the back of his mind, but Brendon had sort of cut him off before, with his lost pet thing. "Do you..." This was awkward to ask, but it was kind of instrumental for what he was thinking about. "Do you have actual sex? I mean, does that even matter to you, as a vampire, or is it all blood for you?"

Brendon looked amused. "I have sex. I like it, even. So what, now you want me to whore myself out for blood? Because I can tell you, I have absolutely no problem with that."

"Okay, no no," Ryan said, feeling absolutely mortified. "I'm not trying to. What I'm saying is..."

Brendon smiled. "Okay, just, say whatever it is you want, it can't be that bad. There is no way you want something that I haven't seen, or done."

Which was why Ryan was even contemplating this. There was no one else he could ask, and Brendon had presented himself so opportunely. He swallowed. "What if... like you said before. What if I _want_ to be scared?" This was agonizing, putting into words something he'd only ever thought about in the back of his mind before. But there was no way he'd get a better chance at it, ever, so. He couldn't pass it up, he just couldn't. And Brendon was completely apart from anything else in his life. "You're strong, right? You could... make me."

There was a long pause, while Ryan kept his eyes on the worn fabric of the couch. There was a thread slipping out of the seam on top.

"Are you... are you serious?" Brendon finally said. He sounded kind of incredulous, and Ryan's face felt even hotter, hot like burning, and it was so hard not to turn around, run up to his bedroom and lock the door behind him. "Like, what are you...? Am I getting it right here, are you actually asking a vampire to what, to hurt you? To hold you down and do kinky shit to you? Seriously, a vampire? Do you even know what you're asking for?"

The words, even the possibility that anything like that might happen, made Ryan's stomach tie itself into knots of terrified anticipation, made him even more desperate to make sure Brendon understood him. "Not entirely," he replied, his voice shaking a little bit. "I've thought about it a lot, but, um, bloodsucking didn't feature much. I didn't know vampires were real." It was a little easier, once he'd started talking, but still something he had to work hard to get out. It helped that this all felt so surreal. "It's mostly been just books and, you know, things off the Internet."

"Huh," Brendon said. He still sounded surprised. "I'm not trying to embarrass you or anything here. But seriously, I'm just trying to make things clear - what you want is to be my own personal little toy, is that it? You want to be my pet in the... _pet_ sense?"

"Not if you're not interested," Ryan gritted out, hot with shame. "You can stop making fun of me now. That was fucking hard to say." He rested his head on his arms, feeling weak and slightly nauseated with how his stomach was churning.

"No, no," Brendon said hesitantly, "it's... just not something I've done in any, um, explicit or agreed upon way. Because that's. That's more like a relationship. It _is_ a relationship, and I don't even." He cut himself off, sounding considering. "Are you looking for a lot of pain? Humiliation? Is it that you want someone to control you? Do you like to be tied up?"

Ryan risked a glance up at Brendon's face. He didn't look repulsed or anything, more like a little confused and maybe intrigued. Maybe he wasn't making fun, after all. It didn't matter anyway. He could say it. It wasn't like Brendon would blab it all to everyone Ryan knew, or anything. "The control thing," he murmured. "Being held down, um, maybe some pain. I haven't done anything like that." He might as well keep going, the whole shameful thing just pouring out of him. "Belonging, I want it, and I. I've just never had anyone like that in my life." He thought of Spencer. "No one who would want to do that, anyway."

Brendon stared at him for a long while. "What about your family? Friends?" he asked.

Ryan closed his eyes against the hot feeling of maybe-tears forming. "Look, I'll just stay inside after dark. You can forget about this. I'm obviously throwing myself at you, and that's really really not what you're looking for. Just, just leave me alone." He hid his face in the couch.

"Come _on_, you can't just ask for something like that and expect me to take it in stride," Brendon said. "Can you maybe let me think about it for a bit? No, that wasn't what I was looking for, but let me _think_, okay?"

Brendon turned away from the window and walked along the edge of the overgrown flowerbeds. Ryan could hear him kicking up some of the dirt. This was such a huge mistake. He didn't even know why he was suddenly so desperate to live out his fantasies, when he had managed fine for years without it, without any real physical contact except for Spencer's hugs. And Brendon - he didn't even know him. He could be into killing and torture, no matter what he said, and Ryan would never know until it was too late. And he was a vampire. But that was kind of the whole point, because a vampire would per definition stay apart from the normal, daylight world, and wouldn't do anything like, say, talk to his dad, or show up in the grocery store while he was out with Spencer's family. Ryan curled tighter around himself and regretted he'd ever helped Brendon in the book store. He was so stupid. He didn't know why he'd thought Brendon would even want him like that.

"Okay," Brendon said at last. "Okay, I guess we could try that. How about we start and see how you react to the biting first, and we can work the other things out later?"

Ryan blinked and sat up. "What, really?" he asked. He'd been convinced that Brendon would say no, had already rejected him, especially when he talked about it being a relationship.

"Yes, okay, we can do this." Brendon sounded more sure of himself. "I want you to come spend some time with me though, when you can manage. I need to get to know you. This isn't going to work well if we don't know each other."

"But," Ryan asked, confused, "what about that thing about, no relationships with humans?" It wasn't like he wanted to talk Brendon out of it, but he was confused about what he'd said earlier.

"Do you want this or don't you?" Brendon looked impatient for a moment, then sighed and leaned against the window. "Look, what I said was that there were a lot of reasons not to do it, not that it was impossible," he said. "Just because I got hurt before, doesn't mean it wouldn't be worth it to try again. I just. I've honestly missed the closeness of something like that, the companionship. But I'm not going to promise anything. I don't really know you. It might not become anything at all. I don't know if I'll stay here forever. You might not like it, or get bored. Maybe you don't even want it, even though you think you do." He was waving his hands, choppy, agitated motions that looked to Ryan as if Brendon was a bit shaken himself. Not so old and experienced after all, or at least not old enough to be completely jaded.

Ryan looked down for a moment, thoughts and words all running together in his mind. He stretched his hand out, ignoring the feeling of adrenaline rising, and fitted his fingers through the gap in the window. His hand was shaking, but he pushed it through anyway, and Brendon, dark eyes locked with Ryan's, took it in his own. All Brendon did was hold it lightly, brushing his thumb over Ryan's knuckles, but it still felt like one of the most insane things Ryan had ever done.

"Your hand is warm," Brendon said in a low voice.

"Yours isn't," Ryan replied without thinking, and that was funny, it really was.

Brendon smiled, and Ryan felt the corners of his own mouth twitch up slightly.

 

***

 

It was maybe two a.m. and finally quiet downstairs when Ryan realized that he could call Spencer now, explain. He'd be home the day after tomorrow anyway, and Ryan suspected Spencer would need some time to assimilate, just like Ryan had. When he got his cell from where it was lying tangled up in his sheets at the foot of his bed, he found two texts. They were both worried in tone, and Ryan made a face. He pressed the speed dial.

Spencer was awake, just like Ryan thought he would be. "I'm calling back," Ryan said when he picked up after only one signal.

"Finally," Spencer said in a hushed voice. "Hang on, let me get out of the tent." There was a minute of rustling and zipper sounds, and then the faint noise of the wind.

"What happened?" Spencer asked, obviously walking away from his tent. "You're telling me right now or I'll tell the twins that is was you who stole their secret makeup stash."

Ryan rolled his eyes. Spencer's baby sisters weren't old enough to use it, anyway. "I promised I'd call," he said. "And I'm going to tell you, but you may not believe me. I know I didn't at first. I had to see it to believe."

"Stop stalling," Spencer snapped. "Give it to me."

Ryan swallowed. "That guy I texted you about. The crazy guy."

"Yes, what about him?"

"He is, he's _actually_ a vampire."

"Um, no," Spencer said decisively after a moment's silence. "There's no such thing."

Ryan sighed. "I told you you wouldn't believe me. But you're coming home soon, and you'll probably be meeting him, because..." He grasped for some good way to say it. "Because I'm going to be spending a lot of time with him."

"What?" Spencer said disbelievingly. "You're hanging with a guy who pretends to be a vampire now? Why?!"

Ryan pulled the covers over his cold feet. "He's not pretending. I saw it. It wasn't fakeable."

"Didn't you say he had fake teeth?" Spencer asked. "And Ry, I don't care what he showed you, it's just... not possible."

"Look, I didn't think so either, but I saw, okay? He was drinking blood from this guy at the Fall Out Boy thing - that's why I was so upset."

Spencer made an impatient noise. "Perfectly normal non-vampire people can drink blood, if they're crazy and that's what they're into."

"I know," Ryan said, irritated, "but can perfectly normal non-vampire people heal the fucking wounds _with their tongues_?"

"What?" Spencer said.

"Look, there was just normal skin when he was done, nothing showed at all." Ryan still couldn't get over how absurd that had been.

"Then maybe there wasn't anything there to begin with," Spencer argued.

"But there was! I was really close. I saw the wounds, and the blood running down his neck, and Brendon just licked it up and... made the skin heal. With his tongue. It was the freakiest shit I've ever seen."

"And what, this guy just stood there with his blood running out of him?"

Ryan blushed at the memory. "Um, pretty much," he said.

Spencer sighed. "Ryan. Are you. Are you not straight edge anymore?"

"What? You think I got... high, and what, like, hallucinated this or something? Fuck you, Spencer!"

"Okay, okay," Spencer said, his voice softer. "But Ryan... Don't you realize, there's just no way that could have happened?"

Ryan banged his free hand several times into the bedding and flung himself backward on the bed. He landed with a whump. "I talked to Brendon earlier tonight," he said, trying to keep his temper. "He _knocked_ on the _air_ between the window and the windowsill. It made _noise_. This is not a hallucination."

"You... talked to him," Spencer said, his voice neutral.

"I didn't let him in or anything - I talked to him through the window in the living room. The invitation thing seems to be true. I opened the window a bit, and he couldn't stick his hand in. I put mine out though, and he was cold, Spencer. Not like ice, but not like a normal human either."

Spencer was quiet for another moment. "I'm not saying I believe you," he said slowly, "but if this guy really was a vampire, would it be smart to stick your hand out the window?"

"He didn't hurt me," Ryan said defensively.

"But what, you're going to be, 'spending a lot of time with him'?" Ryan could hear the quotation marks. "With someone you believe is dangerous? Ryan, that just doesn't make sense. Why do you want to hang with someone who pre... who you think is a vampire?"

Ryan bit his lip. "I like him, Spence," he said. "And I'm going to."

"Because bloodsucking crazy people are so hot?" Spencer's voice was hard.

"It's not even really about the bloodsucking, and he's not crazy!"

"So that's what it is? You think he's hot, and so you're just gonna be like, oh hey, he drinks blood, but I might finally get laid, so who cares?" Ryan inhaled sharply, and was going to reply, but Spencer continued, "Okay no, I didn't mean that. I don't want to fight. I just." He sighed. "Couldn't you have waited until I was home before getting an undead boyfriend?"

Ryan flushed. "I don't know yet. I think, maybe, yes, something like a boyfriend. I hope."

There was a pause.

"Just. Just don't do anything stupid, okay?" Ryan imagined Spencer squeezing his eyes shut, maybe pinching the bridge of his nose. Too late, he thought.

 

***

 

Ryan spent the next day anxiously waiting. He walked past Spencer's house a couple of times, but he didn't go inside, even though he had a key. Then he sat at the old playground, flicking gravel at the beaten-up old metal slide.

Ryan felt worse and worse about what he'd done last night. He wondered if he'd made a huge mistake. Brendon might be a big fat liar and eat him as soon as he was within reach, but then he hadn't before. The night Brendon had followed him home, he'd seemed a little crazy, but pretty harmless. That didn't mean he was, though. He knew some predators liked to play with their prey before going in for the kill. Brendon's whole speech about not killing people might be that, might just be him trying to fuck with Ryan's head. And then, Ryan had gone and asked for more, like some kind of demented vampire romance heroine. He should have just said no to the whole deal, stayed in after dark and hoped that Brendon would move on eventually.

The thing was, now that he'd gotten it out in the open, it was hard not to see meeting Brendon as something meant to be. And if it was meant to be, then maybe Ryan was meant to die from a vampire bite. He didn't _want_ to die or anything - it would just... not be a catastrophe if he did. He'd never planned to live long. This would just be a bit shorter. And no one would miss him much.

 

Best case scenario, Brendon was telling the truth, and Ryan would get away from the trap of ordinary life. Plus he'd get to have sex, which couldn't be a bad thing.

Either way, it would work itself out. That made him feel much better.

Finally the sun began to get close to the horizon. He realized he'd forgotten to eat and went to Spencer's after all. He made himself a sandwich in the empty kitchen and ate it standing over the sink, making sure not to get crumbs on the floor.

Brendon was waiting for him when he got home. At first Ryan thought he was imagining a Brendon-shaped shadow next to his dad's car in the carport, but then Brendon stood up from where he'd been leaning against the wall, and something very much like relief went through Ryan. He finished walking the few steps left and leaned on the car, on the opposite side of Brendon.

"Are you hiding behind that car, Ryan?" Brendon said, the smile in his voice evident. He leaned against the car too, resting his arms on the car roof and hooking his chin over them.

"Just getting comfortable." Ryan felt his face warm up a little bit, but it wasn't too bad. Brendon didn't look as if he were laughing at him, much. "This looks like it's becoming a habit, meeting outside my door."

Brendon smiled some more at him. "It's a good habit. I like it. You don't have to go inside right away, do you?" He tilted his head and rested it on top of his forearms, looking up through his bangs with big eyes.

Ryan laughed, to his surprise not feeling very nervous at all. "That look isn't very Scary Vampire of you." It made Brendon look like a little boy. A flirty little boy. Which was... surprisingly nice.

"Oh but Ryan," Brendon said, leaning as far over the car as he could get, looking at him earnestly, "I wouldn't want to scare you off this soon. We've only just started getting comfortable with each other, don't you think?"

And as easily as that Ryan's nerves were back, that tight feeling in his stomach. He could easily imagine Brendon's nice, earnest face a lot closer, say, leaning over the side of his neck. The thought made him a little irritated at himself, because yes, he already knew what Brendon was, what Brendon wanted. And it wasn't like Ryan himself was rushing inside to safety right this very moment either, so he should just get it over with. Try this.

"Ryan?" Brendon was tilting his head again, looking at him.

Ryan stood up again and moved around the car to Brendon's side, feeling very daring and even more irritated at himself for the feeling. "We can sit on the bench for a bit," he said and patted the worn garden seat that stood against the wall before sitting down. There was plenty of room for three or four people, but Brendon smilingly sat almost close enough that their legs touched. Ryan had to rein in the reflex to press himself further against the armrest. "We could talk, or whatever," he mumbled, looking down.

"Whatever, huh?" Brendon said and took Ryan's hand by the wrist. "You know what, I vote for the whatever."

Ryan froze and had to fight not to pull his hand back. No matter how often he had imagined the actual bloodsucking these past few days, his breathing grew quicker, and his pulse sped up. Brendon could probably feel it, his fingers resting on Ryan's pulse point and all. Brendon's fingers were cool, but not clammy, just the way they'd felt before, and while Ryan kept breathing loudly enough that he thought passers-by would hear it and peer into the dim carport, Brendon slowly lifted Ryan's wrist to his face. Ryan kept his eyes fixed on the ground, his body growing tighter and tighter until he felt like if Brendon was going to keep lifting, he'd break his wrist off from all the tension.

"_Ry_-an," Brendon said in an amused, sing-song voice. His grip on Ryan's wrist was firm, and Ryan realized he'd been pulling to get away.

"Sorry," he whispered, his voice suddenly too cracked for anything else. He tried to relax his arm, but it was like trying to relax a piece of metal. "I'm a bit..."

Brendon kissed the inside of his wrist and Ryan couldn't help it, his body contracted instantly around his stomach and a high pitched whine was pressed out of his throat. His eyes squeezed shut, and he panted, waiting with white noise ringing in his ears. There was only slow, soft kissing and licking for a long, long while, and eventually the impending panic seemed a bit further off as he realized Brendon wasn't going to bite him yet.

"Why aren't you... you know," he said and chanced a glance at Brendon. As soon as he looked, he was riveted to the sight of Brendon's lips against his wrist. As he watched, Brendon looked him in the eye and bit down.

Fuck, it hurt.

"Ow, ow, ow, fucking _fuck_, that hurts!" If Brendon hadn't been holding on to his arm, Ryan would have torn his wrist open trying to protect it, but as it was, Brendon only sucked what looked like a mouthful of blood into his mouth - motherfuck that stung - and then pulled out and licked a few times over the wounds, like he'd done at the concert. Except that guy had seemed to enjoy it.

"So," Brendon said, eyes darker than before, looking maybe hungrier now. "You're definitely not a blood doll."

Ryan still hadn't gotten his wrist back, and he shifted on his seat, feeling strung out on adrenaline with nowhere to put it to use. "How can you be sure?" he asked, feeling strangely insulted and really not as upset anymore.

Brendon laughed softly and licked again over the red holes in Ryan's wrist. He looked like he was savoring something very, very good. "Because you'd be in my lap now, begging for it, if you were."

While Ryan didn't feel quite as shocked by the pain anymore, it didn't make him want to throw himself at Brendon and beg him to suck his blood either. It hurt too much for that.

"I know what would make it better," Brendon said, still licking at Ryan's wrist. It was weird - little twinges of almost-pain - but nothing like the actual biting. It was weirdly comforting that Brendon didn't just keep on feeding without caring what Ryan thought or felt. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't this.

"What?" he asked, because he was all about making things better. He didn't think he could take it if it just _hurt_ so much all the time.

"_Come here_," Brendon said, and Ryan suddenly found himself pressed against Brendon, as close as he could get, straddled over his lap.

"Huh?" he said, because he hadn't even wanted to move, but his body had just reacted as if Brendon's voice had instant access to his brain.

Brendon looked almost chagrined, his face very, very close. "Oops," he said. "I didn't actually mean to do _that_."

"What?" Ryan said, his mind catching up with him. "What the fuck?" He pushed at Brendon's chest, but there was an arm around his waist, and it was strong, fucking _implacable_. While a large part of Ryan's brain said "thrilling!" about this fact, another part was close to panicking and was saying 'get the fuck away!' and that part was currently winning by a large margin. "Brendon!" he said, his voice coming out strangled. Brendon released his arm and lifted him with surprising ease, turning him neatly around on his lap. He didn't let him go, though, and Ryan made a noise despite himself, a quiet bewildered noise.

"Okay shh, shh," Brendon said, still holding him firmly, but petting with one hand over Ryan's chest. "I didn't mean to do that, I used the wrong voice, I was going to _ask_ you to come here, I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do, shh." He was speaking into the side of Ryan's neck, and the closeness between Brendon's mouth and easy access to all of Ryan's blood made it very hard for Ryan to calm down completely. "I'm not going to bite you again until you ask me to, okay? I'm sorry I freaked you out, I really didn't mean to." He kept on stroking Ryan's chest with one hand, now and then straying to pet his cheek carefully.

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. It was hard not to remember there was the option of screaming and waiting for his dad to come outside. If he'd even come. He might be drunk and sleeping in there. He probably was. But he'd decided he'd do this, he _wanted_ to go through with it, and he tried to make himself relax into Brendon's body, put his head back on his shoulder. It felt weird - Brendon wasn't tall or broad or anything, and it shouldn't work, but the more he relaxed, the more natural it felt. Brendon's thumb stroking over his cheek bone felt nice. Resting his forehead against Brendon's cool neck felt nice. There was something he really needed to know, though.

"If you can just tell me to let you drink my blood, what's the fucking _point_? What's with all the, I don't know, seduction or whatever?"

Brendon sighed, and for a moment Ryan wanted to laugh, because Brendon didn't need to breathe, and still he sighed. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I've been at this for a while now, and one would think I'd get the hang of it, but apparently not. It's kind of hard to tell whether blood dolls care what you do to them. But I don't want people to do what I want them to do just because they're reacting to my tone of voice. I mean, I always try to make sure everyone is having a good time, but I guess I need to work on my control some. It's been a long time since I did anything like this with a normal human, and what you asked for... It's hard to judge what's too much for now. There's such a thing as too afraid, you know?" He squeezed Ryan's waist and turned his head, kissed his temple. "I really do know what will make this better for you. Can I try?" he asked. "I don't want you to be in more pain than necessary."

Ryan did feel better now, and his wrist wasn't even hurting anymore. Just a quiet throbbing, on the edge of uncomfortable. He nodded.

"Thank you," Brendon said, kissing his temple once again. "Just relax, let me touch you, and tell me when you're ready."

Brendon went back to petting his chest. He hooked his feet around Ryan's ankles under the seat and pulled them back and apart, so that he was leaning back against Brendon in a slump. It wasn't uncomfortable, and Ryan was sure he could move his feet back with some effort, but it intensified the feeling of being trapped. "Just relax, honey," Brendon repeated quietly, and Ryan tried, he really did. Brendon moved the arm that had been anchoring his waist. Cool, smooth fingers encircled half his neck, Brendon's thumb petting in small circles right at the back, beneath his hair, and suddenly it was easier to relax, to let it happen, to enjoy the stretch in his thighs and Brendon's other hand stroking up and down over the middle of his chest. It felt good, and Ryan let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in a rush of air.

"There you go," Brendon murmured in his ear as Ryan closed his eyes. Brendon used his hand holding the side of Ryan's neck and his face on the other side to tilt Ryan's head more to the side. He nosed up and down the skin there and Ryan breathed in and out unsteadily while Brendon nuzzled one of the tendons, close-mouthed. The hand on his chest moved down to his waist, and then up again underneath his shirt. Brendon ran his thumb a few times over one of his nipples and Ryan made a noise at the unexpected sensation, arching his back a little. He'd half guessed Brendon was going to do something like this, but he still felt a bit uncomfortable getting hard in Brendon's lap as he began to pluck at his nipple, pinching it lightly. He tried squirming a little, but there really was nowhere to go.

"You're doing very well," Brendon breathed. "This is what I want." He pinched harder, and the intensity of the feeling made Ryan arch more, pushing the back of his neck into Brendon's hand. Brendon reacted by squeezing harder, which made Ryan in turn go more boneless. His hands were hanging useless at his sides. He felt hot in the cool evening air. He licked his lips and listened to his own breaths, the way it sounded as if there was no one behind him. Okay. Okay, he could do this, this worked. Just relax.

Brendon stopped pinching his nipple and moved his hand down, stroking slowly over his stomach. When Brendon started unbuttoning his jeans, Ryan felt a twinge of unease. He turned his head back into Brendon's neck. "I... I haven't..." was all he could get out. His voice sounded thready in his own ears and he pressed his hot forehead into the cool skin. Brendon smelled a bit like copper and a bit like charcoal, and his hand didn't pause in unbuttoning Ryan's jeans.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "I know what to do, and your body knows what to do."

Ryan whined and strained against Brendon's ankles as the delicious shock of a hand not his own touching him hit him. Brendon pushed his jeans and underwear down enough that it was easy to touch him and then licked his own palm before gripping Ryan's cock. His other hand was still around the side of Ryan's throat, and without the grounding presence of that Ryan thought he wouldn't have been able to take this, this onslaught of sensation that had him close to coming so quickly. Brendon nudged his head to the side again and Ryan willingly threw his head back against Brendon's shoulder, his hips straining to make Brendon's hand move, to do something to get him there.

"Now, Ryan," Brendon said, his mouth pressed close to Ryan's ear. "Can I bite you now?" He licked along the side of Ryan's throat, and Ryan tried to tilt his head more, tried to give Brendon more access. He was afraid of the pain still, but it had faded. Brendon had soothed his wrist so quickly with his tongue. His tongue, and his teeth, which were biting gently without breaking the skin, all along the side of his neck. It felt so good. "Ryan?" Brendon asked again.

"Yeah, okay," Ryan said dazedly. He shifted his hips as he felt Brendon's fingers around his neck tighten, and then there was the pain, but at the same time there was the pleasure of Brendon's hand finally, finally moving on his cock.

It was a little bit like Brendon pinching his nipple, except more, a lot more. More intensity, more everything. Ryan's mouth opened in a silent scream with how good it was, the drawing rhythmical pain from Brendon drinking, and Brendon's hand, pulling on his cock with a firm grip that was going to make him come so, so quickly. There was no room to move when he did, seconds later, and all he could do was to silently shake apart in Brendon's grip, his body trying to curl in on itself and failing completely.

Brendon pulled his teeth out and licked the wounds through the aftershocks of his orgasm, helping to make it that more intense. The grip around Ryan's neck was loosening, now that the threat of him tearing his own throat open on Brendon's teeth was gone, and Brendon was petting the back of his neck again.

"You did so well," Brendon was saying against his skin, "that was so beautiful. Okay, yes, I'm definitely keeping you, I so am. Such a sweet boy."

Ryan felt a quiet joy at that, and he nuzzled his face into Brendon's neck thankfully, his mind a curiously light place. He didn't even mind the fact that he was more than half naked in the carport, technically in public, which he hadn't even thought about before. After a while, Brendon pulled his pants up and tucked him away, and Ryan turned around on Brendon's lap, pulled his legs up and awkwardly hugged him. He kissed the closest skin he could find, which was Brendon's neck, and Brendon tightened his arms around him.

"Are you." Ryan cleared his throat. He felt like he'd been screaming. "Do you want me to, uh..."

Brendon turned his head so he could look Ryan in the eye. He looked amused, and Ryan suddenly felt very awkward and inexperienced. "Mm, not today," he replied. "Not here." Having sex in the carport was more than a bit crazy, the more Ryan thought about it. They'd been lucky no one had walked past, or that his dad hadn't come out of the house. It made him feel shivery.

Brendon looked at him. "Your eyes are so dark right now," he said. His voice was slow and intense. "You taste very, very good." He leaned in and licked at Ryan's mouth.

Ryan made a startled sound, his voice breaking embarrassingly, but he lifted his chin, trying to follow Brendon's mouth as he leaned back. Brendon's hand in his hair stopped him, and he was left straining uselessly as Brendon tilted his head, studying him for a moment before he bent his head forward again, for a real kiss this time. Brendon's lips were soft, and Ryan opened up eagerly for him to lick inside. It struck him that they hadn't kissed until now and that should feel weird, but then Brendon was stroking his tongue slowly against Ryan's, and it tasted like something dark and like... blood. Ryan closed his eyes against the sudden thrill of that and moved his tongue tentatively along the row of Brendon's teeth. They didn't feel sharp now, just cool and slick. Brendon moved his tongue and lips more insistingly, and Ryan gave up exploring and relaxed into the feeling of being consumed and known. Brendon's hand at the back of his head held him steady.

The kisses became more shallow after a while, until Brendon was barely dipping his tongue inbetween Ryan's lips. He stroked up and down his back a few times and then pressed a final close-mouthed kiss on Ryan's mouth before he stood up, taking Ryan with him.

"I'll go now," he said and smiled softly when Ryan leaned his forehead against Brendon's. "I'll meet you again tomorrow night, okay? At the bookstore?"

Ryan nodded and let him step away. He watched Brendon walk down the street, feeling hopeful; almost happy. He hadn't died. Brendon hadn't drained him.

 

***

 

It wasn't even nine when Ryan got inside. He walked straight to his room, picked up his cell and hit the speed dial. "Spencer, Spence!" Ryan whispered furiously into his cell when Spencer picked up, "I had _sex_!"

"Oh my _god_," Spencer exclaimed, the sounds of wind and vegetation brushing against clothes coming through to Ryan. "With vampire guy?"

"Yes! With Brendon oh my god I can't believe it!" Ryan vaguely knew he sounded ridiculous, but he just couldn't bring himself to care about it. "At first it hurt so badly, but then..."

"What the fuck Ry, you let this guy _fuck_ you?!" Spencer sounded completely outraged.

"Spencer, maybe you should go a bit further away, honey?" came the voice of Spencer's mother faintly and Ryan's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh fuck!" Spencer shouted in dismay in Ryan's ear, immediately followed by Ginger's "Language, please!" dwindling away as Spencer moved quickly out of hearing.

"Spencer," Ryan said, feeling faint, "did you just out me to your mom?"

Spencer made a pained noise. "I am so, so sorry, Ry, but what the fuck? He fucked you?"

"...no." Ryan still had no idea how he was ever going to look Ginger in the eye again. "The biting."

"He actually bit you? Did he break the skin? Are you okay? Did you make sure to clean the wound? Human bites are nasty."

Ryan made an annoyed sound. "He's not a fucking human. It was fine. He didn't drink a lot anyway, and he healed the skin after."

Spencer sighed explosively. "Please put something on it okay? If you bleed out before tomorrow, I'll be mad."

Ryan turned around and glared at himself in the mirror on the wall in lieu of Spencer. "Stop worrying! I'm fine! I just had sex for the first time ever, so stop talking about infection or whatever - can you please be a little happy for me?"

There was a pause.

"Sure, okay. I'm sorry," Spencer said. "It's just, you had sex, and I'm not _there_. You know?"

Ryan didn't, quite, but okay, yeah. "Yeah," he said, agreeing.

 

***

 

Spencer and the rest of his family got home before lunch the next day, and Ryan woke up from persistent pebble-throwing against his window. Once he'd put on some clothes and dragged himself downstairs and out the front door, Spencer assaulted him with a hug so tight Ryan had a memory flash of Brendon's arms last night. He almost went limp against Spencer, but collected himself after a moment and pushed him away, standing by himself.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked urgently, his gaze moving quickly over Ryan's body. "Where are the bite marks?"

"Hi to you too, Spence," Ryan said petulantly, still unnerved from his reaction. He slapped Spencer's hand away from where it was tugging at his hoodie. "I told you he healed them."

"But isn't there any mark? There should be _something_."

Ryan held up his wrist, showing it to Spencer. "He bit me here," he said. He pulled his hoodie out of the way and tilted his head. "And here."

Spencer ran his fingers over the inside of his wrist, checking and finding nothing, and then stroked his fingers over Ryan's neck. Ryan shivered, feeling strangely sensitive. It wasn't exactly sexual, but it was unsettling enough that he ducked his head down, making Spencer's fingers slide away.

"There's nothing," Spencer said, amazed. "Wait, are you sure he actually broke the skin?"

Ryan narrowed his eyes. "Stop being so fucking stupid," he said. "If you don't trust me, then just say so."

Spencer looked alarmed. "It's not that," he said. "Of course I trust you, Ry. I trust you more than anyone. It's just, I didn't see it, and it's a hard thing to believe _without_ seeing, you know?"

"I guess," Ryan said reluctantly. It was weird talking to Spencer when just last night Brendon had made him come less than twenty feet away. Now that he was more awake, his thoughts kept returning to last night, to how Brendon had made him feel. It had been so good.

Spencer stared at him, and Ryan felt himself slowly grow hot, hotter than the sun beating down on him could make him. "It's pretty, um, sexual," he finally said.

Spencer continued staring, and then seemed to shake himself out of it. "I didn't mean. I'm not saying I want to watch you and him have sex or anything." He looked away, and Ryan could see that his cheeks were pink. "Because that would be. Pretty weird. Yeah."

"We were in the carport," Ryan mumbled, embarrassed, and waved awkwardly in that direction. "I wasn't even, anyone could have seen it."

Spencer's eyes widened. "Dude, why didn't you go inside?"

Ryan made a pained face. "I wasn't completely sure yet. I wanted to make sure my dad wouldn't get mutilated or anything. And then I kind of got distracted." He smiled. "But yeah, I think I'd invite him in now. But I'm gonna go meet him later today again, anyway. He asked me to come spend some time."

Spencer frowned. "Are you sure that's okay? I mean, he might have a basement full of skeletons."

Ryan narrowed his eyes. "I'll make sure to check," he said. "And no you can't come, before you even ask. You can meet him some other day."

Spencer looked chagrined and reached up to pull Ryan's hair. Ryan ducked away, used to avoiding him.

 

***

 

Spencer still looked a bit worried when Ryan left him at his house right before sundown, but there wasn't much Ryan could do about that. Originally, inasmuch as he'd been thinking about it when he met Brendon, he'd wanted to keep him apart from everything else in his life. 'Everything else' seldom included Spencer though, and Ryan should have realized that from the start. He thought about it while walking back to his own house and while he drove to the strip mall where the bookstore was. He should never have even told Spencer about Brendon if he'd wanted to keep him a secret, obviously, but he didn't want to have to lie to Spencer. He didn't really want to tell Spencer about the particulars of this relationship, and that would be kind of hard to avoid if it continued the way Ryan wanted it to continue. He really wanted it to continue. He hoped Brendon wouldn't get bored or frustrated with him.

When he got out of the car it was fully dark, but the lights from the bookstore were welcoming. The door had the cheery kind of bell tinkle that Ryan secretly loved, and he breathed in as soon as he got inside, enjoying the smell of books and the incense the old woman who owned the store liked to burn at the counter. There weren't many people in, so Ryan nodded at the owner and decided to go wait in his usual armchair. Maybe get some more reading done. When he got to the back of the store though, Brendon was already there, in Ryan's chair, reading a romance novel. It was one of the really trashy ones, too, and Ryan's eyes widened at the way Brendon was staring intently at the pages.

"What was that about intelligent conversation again?" he asked, poking at the book in Brendon's hands.

Brendon looked up, smiling. It made Ryan relax. He hadn't even known he'd been tense. "Oh, I like variety in my reading materials," Brendon said airily, as if the book he was holding wasn't the dumbest thing ever. Ryan almost grinned at him and perched on one of the armrests, crossing his arms.

"So what did you have planned for tonight?" he asked. "A delightful evening showcasing the literary genius of Danielle Steele? Or maybe some of those wonderfully classic Harlequins, even?"

Brendon smiled broadly. "Nah, I think we'll go over to my place and I'll teach you how to deepthroat."

Ryan almost slipped off the chair as his muscles locked to keep him from falling over. He looked quickly around to see if anyone had heard them, but there was no one nearby. "Um, okay," he said, standing up and brushing nonexistant lint off his thighs.

"Adorable," Brendon said, a fond smile on his face as Ryan stole a look. Ryan flushed, looking down and feeling like he'd misstepped somewhere. Brendon stood up, put the romance novel back on a shelf nearby and stepped into Ryan's space, looking at him and making him meet his gaze. Brendon looked confident, completely at ease. Ryan felt his own face grow even hotter and had to fight not to look away.

"I think I'll miss this when you're not a virgin anymore," Brendon smiled and ran his palm slowly down one of Ryan's arms, closing his fingers around his wrist lightly. "Or maybe I'll have to keep thinking of other things to make you uncomfortable with," he continued, pulling Ryan along back through the store by his wrist, and wasn't that something to imagine. Ryan thought of Brendon holding him down on a bed, driving into him from behind, making him shake and hurt and lose his mind. It made his palms sweat and his eardrums pound with white noise. He closed his eyes briefly and stumbled after Brendon out the door, unable to care about the owner of the store staring after them.

They took Ryan's car, since Brendon apparently hadn't brought one. As Brendon gave him directions Ryan wondered how the hell he had gotten to the bookstore so quickly after sunset when his house wasn't anywhere near there, but he didn't dare ask. Brendon looking over at him frequently and smiling had him nervous enough. Finally Brendon directed Ryan to pull up at one of the houses in a nice enough neighborhood. Brendon's house looked perfectly normal - a white ranch style with a neat stone and gravel garden around it. No swarming bats or ominous, unexplicable cloud formations. Ryan laughed a little at himself. Brendon threw him a questioning look.

"No, nothing," Ryan said. "I was just thinking of how normal your house looked."

Brendon laughed and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Oh but you don't know what's it's like on the inside, now do you? I could have an abattoir in there and you would never know. The curtains are quite opaque and I have good sound proofing."

"Uh, you don't, do you?" Ryan asked. "Have a slaughterhouse in the basement?" He was fairly sure of the answer, but it still made him feel a little less nervous when Brendon only smiled and shook his head.

They got out of the car and Brendon led the way through the garden, up to the front door. Ryan couldn't help but feel that this was even more of a crazy thing to do. Meeting at his own house was one thing, but going inside the house of a man who was probably strong enough to tear him apart with little effort was another. He slowed his steps while Brendon was unlocking the door and opening it. As Brendon turned around, he stopped entirely at the bottom of the steps, unable to make himself move forward.

Brendon leaned in the doorway, waiting patiently.

"You could make me go inside," Ryan said uncertainly. "You could tell me to."

"I could," Brendon nodded. "But I'd rather you wanted to."

Ryan thought about what Brendon had said in the bookstore, about what he'd as good as promised him. He thought about how much he still wanted. How many things there were that Brendon could give him. He walked up the steps and brushed past Brendon, entering. Brendon closed the door behind him.

The walls inside were painted a mottled green and there were paintings displayed here and there that Ryan could see when Brendon flipped the lightswitch at the side of the door. The art wasn't in any style that Ryan was particularly familiar with, but it looked interesting. The floor was carpeted. Brendon threw his keys on a side table in front of a mirror, and Ryan glanced automatically at it, drawn by the movement and only a little surprised that he could see Brendon in it.

"Yeah," Brendon said, amused, "I'm not allergic to silver or garlic either. Although I do sleep days."

"Are you..." Ryan folded one of his hands into the other and squeezed. He wasn't sure how to put it politely. "Are you dead when you sleep?" There was something for unsubtlety, he guessed.

Brendon laughed and stepped closer. "You know, technically, I'm always dead," he said, sliding his hand up Ryan's back to his neck, pushing gently to make him start walking. They moved along the brightly lit hallway until Brendon stopped them before a closed door on one side. "But yes, I look more dead when I sleep. No breath and all," he murmured, pressing himself against Ryan and nuzzling at his neck. "You really like asking questions," he added into Ryan's skin.

Ryan fell back against the door, tilting his head to the side. It felt exciting, exhilarating, to be that close to someone so overtly dangerous. Brendon pulled him closer and leaned his hips into Ryan's, and Brendon was definitely hard and pushing against him. Ryan gasped, his own hips jerking forward automatically. Brendon wormed his hand around Ryan's waist and opened the door, making Ryan almost fall into the room before Brendon caught him, steadying him at the same time as he pushed him backwards toward the huge unmade bed Ryan could glimpse from the corner of his eye while he tried not to fall down.

Brendon pushed him against the edge of the bed. It was surprisingly high, and Ryan was left half sitting, half leaning against it, his gaze flickering over the yellow wall, the dresser standing against it, the small bedside table, books piled high on top. "I'm going to undress you now," he said, and Ryan felt a rush of embarrassment, want and anxiety, all of them running together so closely that he couldn't separate them.

Brendon made short work of the vest Ryan had decided on wearing that morning, but his button down shirt went slower. Ryan shivered, feeling Brendon's cool hands progressing steadily downward over his chest. As Brendon pushed it over his shoulders and down on the bed, Ryan shifted restlessly.

"Come on, up on the bed," Brendon said, pushing him backwards.

Ryan toed off his shoes and laid down, twisting on his side and biting his lip.

"Listen," Brendon said, "I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to think about it. I want a real answer." His eyes were dark and serious, and Ryan swallowed, instantly worried that Brendon might have changed his mind or didn't want him like this after all.

"Do you still want this?" Brendon asked, and Ryan exhaled, relieved. Brendon reached out with one hand, tangling his fingers in Ryan's hair. "If you don't, you need to tell me. You don't have any experience. It would be so easy to fuck you up."

Oh fuck, Brendon was going to make him ask for it. Ryan should have known it wouldn't be that easy. "I," he said, closing his eyes against Brendon's intent gaze. "I want it. Please."

He felt Brendon lean closer and his thumb brushed over Ryan's eyebrow, gently. He turned his face into Brendon's hand, leaning his forehead into his palm. It felt better that way, not so exposed.

"What is it that you want?" Brendon asked him softly.

Ryan didn't answer. He felt lost and overwhelmed, pushing into Brendon's hand as if it was the only thing that could ground him.

"Do you want me to touch you?"

"Yes," he mouthed into the soft skin of Brendon's wrist, grateful for the easier question.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," Ryan whispered, warmth blooming out from his chest into his arms, his legs.

Brendon leaned even closer. Ryan could feel his hair brushing against his face. Brendon's lips were touching the shell of his ear, just barely there. "Do you want me to use you?"

Ryan shuddered. "Yes. Yes, please."

"Ryan," Brendon whispered into his ear, "do you want me to hurt you?"

Ryan tipped his head back and opened his eyes enough to see the side of Brendon's pale face, his nose, the glint of one eye. "Please," he breathed soundlessly.

Brendon turned him over onto his back, pressing him back into the bed, leaning on his chest. Their faces were inches apart. "What else is it that you want, Ryan?" he asked slowly. "Tell me."

Every fantasy he'd ever had about belonging, feeling safe and owned, crested in Ryan's thoughts. Caught by Brendon's gaze on him he licked his lips. This wasn't any easier than it had been through a window pane. Brendon had said he was keeping him, but he might change his mind. "To be yours," he said, struggling not to look away. "I want to be yours."

Brendon smiled, and that must have been the right answer. He brushed his fingers over Ryan's wet lower lip a few times, making it tingle, and then pushed forward. Ryan opened his mouth and Brendon filled it with three fingers at once, pressing down and sliding over his tongue.

"You can have that," Brendon said, petting Ryan's tongue with his fingers, letting them slide back and forth. "You can have all of that." He tucked his thumb under Ryan's jaw, using the resulting grip to turn his head to the side. Then he bit with blunt teeth below Ryan's ear, slowly increasing the pressure until Ryan squirmed and panted, unable to concentrate on anything but the pain and the way it made his whole body prickle with unused adrenaline. The pain was going straight for unbearable, and in the end he couldn't help fighting a little against Brendon's grip, biting his fingers, but there was no give, nothing, and he cried out. The sound of it was raw and high, not like anything Ryan had ever heard come out of his own mouth before, and Brendon finally let up. Brendon nuzzled the painful marks and Ryan felt his eyes sting with tears. He blinked a few times, trying to get rid of them.

"I like that," Brendon whispered into his neck. "You move so nicely." He slid his fingers out of Ryan's mouth and Ryan swallowed shakily, feeling sore. He wasn't sure if Brendon had broken the skin or not, but the entire side of his neck felt like it was inside out. Every time Brendon's lips touched it dull shocks of pain radiated hotly through him.

"Come on," Brendon said with a final kiss to the throbbing skin, "let's finish getting you naked." He kneeled back on the bed and opened Ryan's jeans, pulling them down with practiced expediency, Ryan's underwear going the same way. Brendon threw the clothes on the floor next to the bed and Ryan slid one of his feet up the bed, bending his knee. He felt a little uncomfortable being naked while Brendon stared at him, fully clothed - especially since he was half hard, and had been since they'd entered the bedroom. Brendon lifted Ryan's ankle in his hand and kissed his foot. It made Ryan embarrassed, the way his naked feet had been in his shoes all day, but Brendon only smiled at him. His expression was nowhere near harmless this time. Brendon looked hungry.

"I promised you something," Brendon said, and Ryan startled, quickly rewinding the evening. Oh. "I'm not going to fuck you today, Ryan." And wasn't it strange that Ryan actually felt disappointed at that, because no matter how much he'd wanted it and how much he'd fingered himself in the shower, imagining Spencer or some faceless man doing that to him, he was still nervous, still worried that it would hurt too much, that he wouldn't be able to relax enough. He felt awkward, naked, but it didn't matter, because he belonged to Brendon. Brendon had said so.

Brendon released Ryan's foot and got off the bed. Ryan watched him nervously while he undressed. It was quick, nothing like a tease, and Ryan stared at Brendon's cock when Brendon pulled off his pants. It was pale, like the rest of Brendon's body, and it bounced, half hard, when Brendon climbed on the bed again. Brendon shifted until he was crouching on his knees over Ryan's chest, not really resting his weight on him, but still very much there. His knees were in Ryan's armpits, shoving his arms up, and Ryan felt helpless like that. Like Brendon could do anything he wanted, and Ryan wouldn't be able to stop him. But of course that was true at any time. Ryan licked his lips nervously. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to look at Brendon's face or his cock. Brendon's face looked dark and intent, like he was figuring out what to do next. His cock wasn't circumsised, and the shiny head just peeking out of the foreskin drew Ryan's gaze again and again. It was fascinating.

"Your mouth is going to feel so warm," Brendon said in a hushed tone, and Ryan jerked his stare up to Brendon's face again. Brendon was watching his mouth fixedly. He leaned forward, guiding his cock with one of his hands, and Ryan licked his lips again, keeping his mouth half open as it came closer. "Lick," Brendon told him, and Ryan extended his tongue right as Brendon's cock bumped his lips. It felt soft, and just a little bit slick, and it tasted... a lot. Coppery, yes, but also strangely sharp, like bitter almond. Ryan moved his tongue around, slicking over the round head and carefully exploring the folds of the foreskin. He tried pushing the tip of his tongue between the loose skin and the head, and Brendon made a noise above him. He looked up to see Brendon staring down at him, lips a little parted.

"You look so hot like this," Brendon said. "So warm." He pushed forward slightly, and Ryan parted his lips further as Brendon's hardening cock invaded his mouth. It wasn't gigantic or anything, but it was still big. Bigger, and different than Brendon's fingers. Brendon cupped Ryan's jaw with his hand and petted his mouth where it was stretched around the head of his cock, and Ryan tried to be good, tried to do it right. He'd watched porn before, and he knew he was supposed to get it all the way inside, but Brendon had barely even gotten half of his cock into Ryan's mouth and it already felt like nothing more was going to fit in there. Ryan tried lifting his head from the bed to force more of Brendon into his mouth, but that just seemed to make it more difficult. The head of Brendon's cock hit the back of his throat, and Ryan had to retreat not to gag.

"No wait," Brendon said, "that's not going to work. Here." He climbed off and down off the bed and started rearranging Ryan the way he wanted him, which seemed to be on his back with his head hanging off of the side of the bed. It wasn't uncomfortable per se, but it felt vulnerable, his head in Brendon's hands, his neck fragile and breakable. Hesitantly, he brought his hands up, touching Brendon's wrists and forearms. Brendon looked down on him, and then suddenly bent and licked into Ryan's mouth, his hair brushing against Ryan's jaw, his throat. It was intense and hard, Brendon's tongue pushing in and pressing along his teeth, Brendon's face a blur filling his entire field of vision, and then he was gone again.

Brendon pushed his cock back inside Ryan's mouth before he could even close it, and Ryan jerked a bit with the surprise, squeezed Brendon's wrists where they were holding him still. "This'll help," Brendon said breathlessly. "I'll show you the angle you need." And before Ryan had any time to prepare for it, Brendon pushed more of his cock inside, further in, and he whined, arching his back, feeling trapped and reveling in the shock of it. This was what he wanted; this feeling of helplessness that came with Brendon holding him still and using him for what he wanted, what he needed. This was real. He took short, shaky breaths through his nose as Brendon pushed more, nudging past the back of his throat, and then it was hard to breathe at all. Brendon made short, jerky thrusts that just dipped that much deeper and back out again, the feeling of it tight and stretched, exciting. Every few thrusts, Brendon pulled back a little bit more, and Ryan took a few shallow breaths, swallowing not to choke on his own saliva. His feet were sliding up and down on the sheets, trying somehow to get leverage to push further, but Brendon was holding him too firmly for anything like that to be possible. He kept to his rhythm of letting Ryan breathe, then a few thrusts, then more breathing, until Brendon was panting above him with unneeded air.

"No breathing for a bit now," he said, his voice strained, and Ryan's eyes widened as Brendon pushed deeper and stayed there, stretching Ryan's throat until it felt like it might break open from the pressure. Ryan tried to make noise, but there was no air. He clung to Brendon's wrists, trying not to panic as he felt the need to breathe get more urgent. "So close," Brendon whispered, "doing so well. Swallow. Swallow for me." Ryan tried, but there wasn't really room for his throat to convulse. Still, it seemed to do something as Brendon moaned and pushed inside him, his fingers pressing hard into the sides of Ryan's head. Ryan closed his eyes and hung on, ignoring the way his lungs made jerky attempts to get air, any amount of air, and the tightness inside his head that was developing into fuzzy, tingling waves threatening to take him away.

Brendon made a noise like he was in pain and stilled inside him, holding immobile for a shuddering moment and then pulling out, all the way out as Ryan heaved with breath after breath, swallowing and coughing and still holding on tightly to Brendon's wrists. There was a taste in his mouth that hadn't been there before, something more like sweet blood than bitter almond, but Ryan didn't care as he twisted around on his side, Brendon's hands suddenly more permitting, helping him rest his head on the bed again.

Brendon climbed up and settled himself behind Ryan, holding him with an arm across his chest while Ryan stared at the wall and let his breathing slow down. His jaw was sore, his neck was sore, and the rest of his body felt like he'd been running a marathon. A sexy marathon. It almost made him wish he was alone, so he could jerk off, thinking about it.

"Mm, so good," Brendon said in his ear and Ryan pressed back against him. Fuck being alone, when he had Brendon right there. He didn't even care if he got off or not, as long as Brendon kept holding him. "You're going to be great at this."

Ryan closed his eyes and smiled, the stretch of his lips hurting a bit.

 

***

 

Hanging out with Spencer had never been strange, even when Ryan was fifteen and realized he wanted him as something more than friends. Ryan had never even tried to hint at it, because it was so obvious that Spencer would never want him back. Spencer was normal - he'd have a girlfriend eventually, and Ryan would drift away into the background. He told himself he was content with the physical closeness he could get, and eventually he made himself believe it. It had just never been a problem. Ryan knew where he belonged in the larger image. Except now, when Spencer kept hanging all over him, his fingers pinching tight around Ryan's biceps when he stressed things he said, it was hugely different.

"Why do you even want him?" Spencer was saying, tugging at Ryan's hand until Ryan scooched closer. Spencer squeezed it hard, pulling on Ryan's fingers as if he wanted to check that they were still attached.

Ryan tried not to lean on him too much. It was getting dark, the streetlights starting to come on. The Smiths' front door light was broken and Spencer's dad kept putting off buying a new one, so the steps they were sitting on were in a cosy twilight.

"I don't know, he's pretty much what I want. Why does it matter?"

Spencer sighed. "Sometimes it feels like you're moving away," he said.

Ryan felt weird, hearing his own fear quoted back at him. "I thought maybe you'd be happy for me. Why are you suddenly asking me all these things?"

Spencer looked away. "I don't know. Maybe since you suddenly spend all your time with _him_."

Ryan didn't think that was true.

"What is that?" Spencer said, brushing Ryan's hair to the side and poking at the marks Brendon had left.

"Um, a hickey?" Ryan winced but didn't stop Spencer from touching him.

"That is not a fucking hickey, that is a big fucking bite mark!" Spencer looked betrayed. "I thought you said he healed things!"

Ryan cupped a hand over his neck, pulling away. "I didn't want him to take it away," he mumbled. "I just wanted a mark, what's wrong with that?"

"Some fucking mark," Spencer grumbled, but seemed to subside. "You sound weird. You sounded weird on the phone too. Are you getting a cold or something?"

Oh. Ryan had known he was a little hoarse, but he hadn't realized Spencer would notice it. He blushed.

"You're blushing," Spencer said in a puzzled tone. "Why would you even blush over that?"

Ryan shook his head quickly. "No reason," he said, except his tone didn't even sound convincing to himself.

"Okay, no, what?" Spencer insisted. He took Ryan's hand back and squeezed is in both of his own. "Tell me."

This was embarrassing. "You know we have sex."

"Oh my god Ryan! Don't tell me about your sex life! It's so weird that you even have one."

Ryan looked up, confused. "But. You asked me."

"I asked you about your throat, not your fucking... oh. _Oh_. That's. What's he doing to you? Are you okay?"

"What? Of course I'm okay." Ryan scowled and scraped the sole of his shoe over the fringe of scraggly grass that grew between the flagstones beneath the stairs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"He's not... making you do stuff?"

"No." Ryan didn't feel that was worth expounding on. He was getting tired of the way Spencer kept poking at his thing with Brendon, like it was something suspicious, like Brendon was something bad.

"I want to meet him," Spencer said after a moment. "I don't like you hiding him away like that. I want to see what he's like."

"Fine," Ryan said. "I'll bring you with me right now."

 

***

 

"You know, I'm still not convinced this guy isn't a drug dealer or something," Spencer said as he trailed after Ryan up to Brendon's house. It was still barely after sundown, and there was enough light to see by. The house itself had no lights on, but since Brendon had said he'd be there, Ryan assumed he would be.

"It's not like that," Ryan said without turning his head. "Brendon is for real." Come to think of it, he had no idea what Brendon did when he wasn't with Ryan. He doubted it had to do with drugs, though. Ryan could imagine many different things extra strength and speed would be good for. Or maybe there were special vampire lines of work, or that intrigue shit they always pushed in vampire stories. He didn't think Brendon would make a very good plotting overlord. Spencer grabbed his arm from behind and forced him to stop. "What?" Ryan asked.

Spencer turned him around, looking into his eyes. "Are you absolutely _sure_ it's not dangerous for us to go inside that house?" he asked. He looked serious.

Ryan sighed. "Look," he said, "all I can say is that Brendon has had plenty, and when I say that I mean _plenty_, of opportunity to hurt me, and he hasn't done it. Yeah, he could be waiting to, I don't know, snare more young innocent boys at once into his tangled web or something, but Spencer, really."

Spencer looked at him searchingly for another moment, then he sighed and let go of Ryan's arm. He stepped around Ryan on the path and took his hand, starting them up toward the front door again. "Okay," he said. "Okay, but if I have to walk home with an axe sticking out of the back of my head, I'm blaming you."

Brendon opened the door for them so fast that Ryan doubted he'd been anywhere else but right behind it, listening and waiting. It made Spencer twitch a bit, but Ryan found himself shuffled behind Spencer before he could even say hello.

"Hi," Spencer said. "I'm Spencer." Ryan could see him glaring all the way from the back of his head, and clearly Brendon could as well, because his welcoming smile looked a bit taken aback.

"Um, hi Brendon," Ryan said, peeking over Spencer's shoulder apologetically. "This is my best friend, Spencer."

"Hi," Brendon said, obviously regrouping, "won't you both come in?"

Spencer stalked inside, making sure to have Brendon in his sights at all times, while Ryan was left to pad through the hallway in his wake. They passed by the door to the bedroom. It was closed. As they emerged into the living room, Ryan couldn't help but notice that the windows were covered, but he couldn't see any other signs that this wasn't a perfectly normal home. There were books lying around, and a guitar on one of the padded chairs. Spencer's gaze was darting around, as if he was trying to find evidence or clues of murder.

"You guys want something to drink?" Brendon asked, turning around.

Spencer stared silently with wide eyes, and Ryan glanced worriedly at him.

"Don't be ridiculous - I have lemonade," Brendon said and rolled his eyes.

After inviting them to sit down on one of the corduroy couches, Brendon disappeared to what was apparently the kitchen, presumably to get said lemonade. Ryan was tempted to go after him and apologize for springing Spencer on him with no warning, but he didn't really want to leave Spencer alone either. Spencer would probably start looking behind the couch cushions for dismembered body parts if he did, anyway. They sat in silence for the few minutes it took Brendon to get back, Spencer's tense thigh pressed against his.

The lemonade was good and not too sweet, although Ryan felt a bit awkward drinking it while Brendon sat there on the opposite couch, empty-handed. Spencer stared searchingly at his before he took his first sip, like he was afraid he was going to be roofied.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Brendon said when they put their glasses down on the table. "I wasn't really expecting more than one person."

"I'm sorry I..." Ryan began, but Spencer interrupted him.

"I want to know that you're not dicking Ryan around," he said. "I didn't spend years being his best friend to watch some asshole play him or something."

"Spencer!" Ryan exclaimed and turned to face Spencer. "That's not..."

"I see," Brendon said, his voice cool. "You think I'm... playing him, as you put it."

Spencer scooted forward on the couch, leaning over the table. "Well what else could it be? You've managed to convince him you're a vampire, and you're obviously having sex." His face had turned pink, but he looked determined and increasingly upset. "Is this a funny game to you? See what you can get him to do, get him to believe?"

"Spencer," Ryan said, outraged, kneeling up and moving his hand to try and cover Spencer's mouth. Spencer batted it away. "Spence, it's not like that! Fuck, Brendon, I'm sorry."

Brendon leaned forward as well, his face expressionless. "A funny game," he said thoughtfully. Brendon stood up and came over to their side of the coffee table. He sat down next to Ryan, as close as Spencer was on the other side. He put his hand at the back of Ryan's neck and pulled gently, making him list over Brendon's lap while Spencer made a sharp, disapproving noise, his hand tightening on Ryan's thigh. _Oh fuck_ went through Ryan's mind as he realized what Brendon was doing. He hadn't exactly been planning on telling Spencer yet, or _ever_, about what exactly it was that he and Brendon did. Brendon kept pulling him down, and for one dizzying moment Ryan was convinced that Brendon was going to keep going, open his jeans and make Ryan suck him right there, with Spencer watching, just to make a point, but all he did was put Ryan's head on his lap.

"So. This is our... funny game," Brendon said conversationally, but Ryan could feel how still he was. "It's great. Ryan does whatever I want him to. Loads of fun. You know what would be even more fun?" Brendon extended one of his hands toward Spencer. "To make you believe I'm a vampire too. Come on, give me your hand, it's the funniest thing ever." His voice was still level, but Ryan suspected he was actually angry, and not just a little.

Ryan twisted his head in Brendon's lap to watch Spencer's red face, the way his gaze was flickering between Ryan and Brendon. His blue eyes were wide and shocked and for a bit it seemed that he wouldn't be able to say anything to that.

"Fine!" Spencer said, and his mouth twisted unhappily as he put his hand in Brendon's. "Go ahead, what are you going to..."

Brendon pulled Spencer's hand to his mouth fast enough to jerk his shoulder forward uncomfortably. Ryan followed the movement above him with his eyes just in time to catch Brendon biting down on the inside of Spencer's wrist, the sound like someone biting into a peach.

 

"What..." Spencer's whole body stiffened where he was pressed against Ryan, and then he made a strange noise, almost like a whine. Ryan had never heard Spencer sound like that and he looked back at Spencer's face, half covered now by the tense line of his arm where it was stretched across. Ryan could still see Spencer's mouth and the way it was half open, red lips trembling.

Brendon made a contented noise and sucked. Ryan could almost see how the pull forced the blood through Spencer's body, the way Spencer shivered hard.

"Fuck, oh fuck..." Spencer whispered, his voice sounding broken somehow, and his body suddenly pressed even closer, like he was trying to get to Brendon through Ryan.

Brendon pulled off with a wet noise and Ryan could smell the blood, Spencer's blood, while Brendon licked at Spencer's wrist and Spencer shuddered against him, making small noises like he was in pain, or...

Ryan didn't know how he'd missed it before now. Spencer was like that guy at the Fall Out Boy gig. Spencer liked it.

"Come on, Ryan," Brendon said, dropping Spencer's hand back into his lap, "we're going to the other couch, and Spencer can sit here for a bit, collect himself." He sounded smug.

Spencer didn't seem to particularly want to let Brendon or Ryan go, but Brendon just stood up and pulled hard on Ryan's hand, making Spencer let go and fall back. When they were settled on the opposite couch, Ryan's head in Brendon's lap the way he apparently wanted it, Ryan looked back over the coffee table. Spencer was sitting with his eyes closed and mouth open, breathing heavily, his fingers white from gripping his knees hard with his hands.

"Fuck," Spencer said again, and "Okay, okay," like he was trying to calm himself down.

"You doing okay over there?" Brendon asked, his voice noticeably amused.

Spencer's eyes opened. He looked a little wild and a lot upset. "I'm..." he said, "I'm fine. Just." He ran his hand through his hair. Ryan could see it was shaking. "Don't do that again, okay?"

Ryan shifted uncomfortably. On the one hand, Brendon had shut Spencer up very effectively, and he didn't think Spencer was going to deny Brendon was a vampire anymore, but on the other hand, Spencer was really upset, and Ryan was stuck on the other couch. On the third hand, Spencer _liked it_. Spencer was exactly what Brendon needed, and Ryan wasn't, not really.

"So," Brendon said, "did you have more you wanted to talk about? No?"

Spencer wasn't saying anything, but Ryan could see by the way his lips were pressed together that he wanted to. Spencer looked Ryan in the eye, for the first time in minutes, and Ryan could feel himself blushing, inexplicably. He looked away.

"Okay then," Brendon said, his voice fake cheerful. "How about we start over, yes? Ryan, go sit over there with Spencer." He pushed Ryan up to a sitting position. "I'll even get some more lemonade. Yummy, wasn't it?"

Brendon stood, snatched up their glasses and left for the kitchen again. Ryan put his hands on his thighs, unsure if he actually wanted to sit with a Spencer who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than here. Although if he didn't, he had a feeling Spencer might get seriously mad at him. More seriously mad.

 

He went and sat with Spencer.

Brendon returned with filled lemonade glasses. This time, neither of them went to drink from them as he placed them on the table.

 

***

 

Spencer was quiet the whole time on the way back. Ryan tried to talk to him a couple of times, but Spencer just shut him off with a "Not now, Ryan," and stared straight ahead. Ryan kept driving until they were back at Spencer's house. He wasn't even sure Spencer wanted him to come up with him, but Spencer only looked at him until he got out of the car and took a few steps in the direction of the front door. After that, Spencer grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him along, not stopping until they were on the second floor, in Spencer's room with the door safely shut. Then he left Ryan standing by the door while Spencer got on the bed, leaning against the headrest with his knees drawn up and his arms around them.

Ryan wasn't sure he should even be there. He still felt like he'd somehow let Spencer down with Brendon, and the way Spencer's color was getting higher, he was clearly working himself up about something. When he finally stopped staring straight ahead and looked at Ryan, Ryan flinched with how shocked Spencer still looked. He hadn't realized how much Spencer had been working to control himself until now.

"Is that what he does to you? Is that why...?" Spencer's voice was almost breaking, and Ryan took a couple of steps toward the bed before stopping, still not sure if Spencer would welcome him any closer.

God, if that's what Spencer thought, that Brendon was... his drug, or something. Ryan's face felt hot. "No." He tugged on the hem of his sleeve. "You're different. You're the meal de luxe - the way it's supposed to be." He couldn't help but feel a little bitter at that. Maybe it would have been better if Ryan _had_ been able to feed Brendon that easily. No warmup required, just an easy, nice meal.

Spencer stared at him incredulously. "Well I don't want it!" he shouted.

"Well it's not like he's going to force it on you," Ryan mumbled. Except Brendon had, sort of. Forced it on Spencer.

Spencer turned his face away for moment, but then turned back again quickly. He looked scared. "I don't even like guys."

Ryan laughed a little, sounding hollow and weak to his own ears. "I don't think that matters in this case," he said. He took the few remaining steps and sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. "It's not," he started carefully, but didn't know how to continue. Spencer glanced at him. His eyes looked shiny. Ryan wondered if he was going to cry. He hadn't seen Spencer cry in forever. "It's like," he tried again, "from what I understand, some people are just like that. Like you. They kind of, they fit together with vampires. It's just the way your brain and body are made. It's got nothing to do with sex, really."

Spencer's eyes widened into a disbelieving stare, and Ryan blinked, because, okay, yeah. "I mean, it's not _just_ about sex. It's like... symbiotic. Yeah. The vampires get food and you get... off. Um."

"Oh my god you fucking suck," Spencer groaned and threw his head back, almost slamming it into the headboard. "This isn't helping!"

Ryan waved his hands frustratedly. "I don't know, okay? It's just how some people are. Some people really like it."

"But what about you?" Spencer said, consideringly. "You're not like that. What do you get out of it?"

Ryan tried to gather his thoughts, put together a way to explain to Spencer what he needed to know. He pressed his hands together and tucked them between his knees. "When he bit you," he began, and Spencer's face closed off a little again. "No, just before that," he continued before Spencer could say anything. "When he... when he pulled me down." Ryan looked down at the floor. Talking to Spencer about this wasn't something he was enthusiastic about, but he owed Spencer. He did, after seeing Spencer so upset, after letting Brendon run right over him.

"I wanted him to do that. I mean, it was kind of dickish of him to do that right then, but in general," Ryan took a deep breath, "in general, I _want_ him to do that. I want him to, to make me do things." He felt his face grow hot again, and this was maybe the most awkward he'd felt with Spencer in years, but he _owed Spencer_. "Sex things. And other things too."

Spencer was quiet, but Ryan couldn't bring himself to look. What if Spencer was disgusted now? What if he hated Ryan? What if he would just keep being quiet until Ryan was forced to walk out of there and never come back?

Spencer cleared his throat. "Like the magazine?" he said, and Ryan knew instantly which magazine he meant - he should have _known_ it hadn't been hidden well enough, not from Spencer who knew all of his best hiding places - and a fresh wave of heat rolled through him, making him curl his head into his chest with the shame of it. "The one with the girls who were tied up and crying? Like that?"

"No!" Ryan said reflexively. "I mean, yes. Yeah, pretty much exactly like that." He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Oh," Spencer said.

That was not an informative reaction. "Oh what?"

Spencer shifted. Ryan could see it out of the corner of his eye. "I don't know, that's... fine, I guess? I just don't get it why you have to do that with a vampire is all. Isn't that dangerous?"

Ryan felt a bit more relieved. Spencer wasn't going to make this awful.

"Oh my god he _is_ actually a vampire isn't he?" Spencer continued. "I was so, so sure he was just faking it."

"I told you," Ryan said petulantly, looking at Spencer sideways. "You just wouldn't trust me. But yeah, that's kind of the point. The dangerous part."

"But why? You don't even know him. Not really."

"I don't know." Ryan shifted uncomfortably. "He was just there, and he was interested. And it's not like he's abusing me or anything. I really like it so far."

Spencer's face screwed itself up in a violent frown. "But what happens when he does something you _don't_ like? You'd be better off doing that sort of thing with someone like, a good friend or something." He looked away again.

This was getting silly. "Well this might have escaped your attention, but I don't _have_ any real friends except for you."

"Mm, no," Spencer mumbled.

 

"So yeah, that's why," Ryan said, relieved to have it all sorted.

 

***

 

"No, he doesn't," Ryan scoffed. "He's my best friend - I'd have noticed."

"Really, Ryan," Brendon continued. "I don't think it's that easy to know everything about someone. And he definitely looks at you. And he acts awfully protective." He wasn't looking particularly happy about that.

Ryan sighed. "He looks at me like that because I'm his _friend_."

Brendon tightened his fingers in Ryan's hair and tugged until Ryan obligingly tilted his head back over Brendon's thigh, making it difficult for him to look Brendon in the eye. Brendon petted his exposed throat and Ryan made a little 'mmm' noise without even meaning to. It was really... nice, this - just snuggling.

 

"Well, he's a blood doll, so he should like me better anyway," Brendon kept going. "Except he doesn't. And why is that?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.

Ryan had had no problem whatsoever leaving Spencer behind when he'd gone to Brendon's tonight. He suspected Spencer wanted to stay far enough away to repress his memories for now, since Spencer hadn't mentioned a word again about what had happened when Brendon had bitten him. Ryan couldn't say he really minded. He loved Spencer, but he didn't think he actually wanted to share Brendon with him. Spencer didn't fit with Brendon - not like Ryan did. If Spencer had turned out to be Brendon's perfect food, Ryan thought he might have died a little. Brendon was nice to him, and there was good sex, and the sense of being taken care of. He didn't want to lose that.

"Why is that?" Brendon repeated.

Ryan hadn't considered that wasn't a rhetorical question. "Um," he said and swallowed, slightly uncomfortable with Brendon pulling his head further back. Brendon glanced down at him quizzically, smiling at him when Ryan had trouble finding words. He let up a little so that Ryan could speak easier. "Do all blood dolls just love vampires naturally?" he asked. "Couldn't he just want to think for himself?"

"I guess," Brendon said. "It's just." He rested the palm of his hand across Ryan's throat. It felt cool and solid, comforting. "They're generally a bit more - how should I put it - friendly. And the only reason I can think of why he's not, is you." He gripped Ryan's windpipe lightly and gave him a small shake.

"I keep telling you," Ryan said, "he's my best friend. I don't really have any other people close to me. He's always been like that." Ryan waved one of his hands in the air. "He worries. He'd probably be like this even if I was with some normal non-vampire guy."

"It's kind of insulting," Brendon said. "If it's that he doesn't think I can take care of you."

"It's just... I guess he's just been doing it for longer." As Ryan said that, he realized that was true. Spencer _had_ been taking care of Ryan, even since they first became friends. Ryan had his own bed in Spencer's bedroom, even if that was mostly because Spencer had a bunk bed all to himself. Come to think of it, Spencer got that bunk bed when Ryan was eight. There was a great possibility that his parents bought it for him because of Ryan. Because of how often Ryan slept over at their house. Because of how often Ryan needed somewhere else to be but at his own house.

"He's just Spencer," Ryan said. "It's who he is."

"Hmm," Brendon said.

 

***

 

The day that Ryan got sick was a Tuesday. He knew because his dad had left the paper on the kitchen table before he'd gone to work, and Ryan had seen the headlines about Iraq and the date before he'd swept it onto the floor to make room for his coffee. It was mid-afternoon before he woke up anymore, anyway. Spencer rang the doorbell and Ryan let him in, feeling sluggish and headachey.

"Why didn't you call me back? Are you going over to Brendon's today?" Spencer asked, peering at him suspiciously.

Ryan waved a hand at him, and then doubled over in a sneeze attack.

"You're sick," Spencer said darkly. "You need to stay home. Or at my place. Mom will feed you."

"No no, I'm not sick," Ryan said, frowning. "This is allergies." He sneezed again.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Come on, you don't have allergies. You've never had allergies. You have a cold."

Ryan went back into the kitchen and located some tissues. He blew his nose. It tickled, and he sneezed again. "I'm not sick," he called back to Spencer, "and yeah, I'm going to see Brendon later."

Spencer came into the kitchen behind him. "Brendon's not going to want diseased blood, is he? Or doesn't it taste any different to him?" He sat down and watched Ryan wipe at his nose. Ryan threw the used tissue into the trash.

"I'm not sick, so it doesn't matter, does it?" he said. "And you're not saying anything either. Be right back." He went into the bathroom and got the decongestant out of the medicine cabinet. There was no way Ryan was going to miss feeding Brendon because of some stupid sniffles. Brendon might get it into his head to go find someone else, and that was just. No. He took some Tylenol too, just to make sure he'd be fine. Because he would be fine. This would be over in the morning. Ryan was never sick for long. He stuffed the small bottles in his pocket and went out into the kitchen again, where he got himself some more tissues.

Spencer was looking at him meaningfully.

"What?"

"I'm going with you to Brendon's. Bet he'll see right through you."

"Shut up," Ryan said and sniffled.

 

***

 

Brendon took one look at him before immediately stepping in and smelling Ryan's skin. Then he grimaced.

"You're sick," he said despondently. "And you took drugs."

"I'm not sick," Ryan protested. "And what do you mean drugs? I'm edge."

"I can smell it on you." Brendon turned around in the entrance to the living room and sat on the couch, looking annoyed. "Didn't I tell you drugs makes you taste bad?"

Ryan glanced at Spencer, who was raising his eyebrows like 'I told you so,' and hesitated before sitting on the other couch. "Okay, I took, like, one Tylenol," he admitted. "It's not like I snorted cocaine or anything. Why does it matter?" His nose itched, and he wiped at it surreptitiously with his sleeve.

 

"I'll have to go out tonight," Brendon said. "You can stay here if you want." He stood up. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't wreck the place."

"Wait," Ryan said and sat up straight. "You can't, I mean. I'm the one who's supposed to feed you."

 

Brendon looked back at him. "And I said that if you couldn't, I'd go find a snack. Right? Tylenol counts. It makes the blood taste really off. And I wouldn't take blood from you when you were sick anyway. You need it yourself. So you can't right now, and I need to eat, and so I'm going out for dinner." He looked like what he was saying meant perfect sense, but Ryan still felt like it was wrong.

"Um," Spencer said, still standing in the doorway. Spencer's eyes were wide, and his gaze had slipped away from Ryan as soon as Ryan looked at him. Now he seemed to be staring at the opposite wall. "I'll do it. If you want."

"What, really?" Ryan said, his eyebrows rising. "I thought..."

"I'll do it," Spencer said again. "But you have to stay here."

Brendon was watching them, his head turning back and forth. He didn't say anything, so Ryan supposed it was up to him. Spencer feeding Brendon was a much better choice than someone random.

"Are you sure?" Ryan asked.

Spencer's face was a bit pink, but he glanced at Brendon and then quickly fixed his gaze on Ryan instead. "You don't want him to go out, and he can't drink from you. I'll do it."

"Perfectly fine with me," Brendon said.

"Um, do you want to sit here with me?" Ryan asked. "Or just for me to be in the room while you do it?" He hadn't really thought about the reality of it, what Spencer was going to do. His best friend was going to get off, and Ryan was going to get to see it, front seat. He shifted, feeling himself get hard.

Spencer looked down. "Could you," he started. "Could I maybe sit next to you?" And oh fuck, that was going to be so hot. "I don't know, is that too much?" Spencer was twisting the hem of his t-shirt in one of his hands.

"No, no," Ryan said quickly and scooted back into the couch corner, one foot on the floor and the other folded up underneath him. "Come here, you can sit here. I'll be right here."

Spencer walked around the couch, skirting around Brendon carefully so as not to touch him by accident. Brendon watched him with a thoughtful expression. Ryan patted the seat beside him and tried to smile encouragingly. Possibly it didn't come out that way, since Spencer's answering jerk of lips looked equal part sarcastic and scared.

Ryan put a hand on Spencer's thigh and squeezed when he sat down. "Thank you," he whispered, tugging slightly to get Spencer even closer.

Brendon sat down on Spencer's other side, and Ryan felt him tense a little bit more, his breathing coming just a little bit faster. He petted Spencer's thigh in response, hoping that Spencer wouldn't bolt or anything. Although Ryan would never blame him if he did.

"Alright," Brendon said. Spencer jerked minutely at the sound and Ryan could see Brendon cupping the back of Spencer's neck. Spencer whimpered as Brendon bent closer, but didn't move away. His breath caught, and Ryan thought maybe Brendon was licking Spencer's neck. Ryan wrapped one of his arms around Spencer's waist and held him tight. He buried his face in Spencer's neck, listening to the wet sounds of Brendon's tongue and breathing in.

Spencer stiffened, and Ryan knew Brendon had bitten down. He squeezed around Spencer tighter, but Spencer relaxed almost instantly again, his muscles going more loose than Ryan thought they'd been since they even came inside the house. He could hear Brendon making a small sound, like a little moan with pleasure, and Spencer seemed to respond, his thighs falling apart. Spencer was falling backward, lying back against the back of the couch, and both Brendon and Ryan were going with him, Brendon slow, so that he wouldn't dislodge his teeth. Ryan pressed his lips against the side of Spencer's neck in a small kiss, meant as comfort, but Spencer groaned loudly and grabbed at the inside of Ryan's thigh like he couldn't help himself. He probably couldn't, Ryan thought with a pang of bad conscience, but the sheer hotness of Ryan doing something to make Spencer react like that overcame it pretty easily. Ryan let Spencer knead his thigh and moan while Ryan kept pressing small openmouthed kisses against Spencer's neck, listening to the sounds of Brendon drinking, so strange when it wasn't himself in Spencer's position.

One of Brendon's cool hands gripped Ryan's where it was locked around Spencer's waist and tugged. Ryan was annoyed at first, but when he found his palm pressed tight against the hard ridge of Spencer's cock through his jeans, he forgot everything about being annoyed. Brendon pressed on top of Ryan's hand, as if to say 'go to town,' and then let go. Spencer panted harshly and arched his hips a little against Ryan's hand, and how had Ryan never done this before?

"Okay, Spence?" Ryan asked, although he was already squeezing Spencer's cock through his jeans. The heat and solidity of it made him almost giddy with the reality of what he was doing.

Spencer arched more, digging his feet into the floor for leverage. Ryan could see him staring unseeingly into the ceiling. Brendon was slowing down, Ryan could hear it, so he maneuvered until he could get Spencer's fly open, to touch him more. Spencer's cock when Ryan got it out of his underwear was pink, just like Spencer's cheeks when he was flushed. Ryan had seen it before, but never hard, and he took a moment to admire the thick, straight line of it. He kind of wanted to suck it, but there wasn't really time - not if he was going to make Spencer come before it was all over. He glanced at Spencer's face one last time before putting his hand on his cock; Spencer had closed his eyes, and his mouth was open. Ryan licked his palm quickly and wrapped his fingers around Spencer's cock. He squeezed hard, the way he liked it himself, and started stroking. Spencer made a drawn-out desperate noise, and wow, that was even hotter. Ryan's own cock was pressing uncomfortably against his jeans and Spencer's hip. They were pressed together so tightly that Ryan could feel every hitch in Spencer's breathing, every way his body was straining.

"Oh, oh," Spencer groaned suddenly, louder, and Ryan tried to make his strokes as perfect as possible, panting against the side of Spencer's neck again. Then Spencer convulsed, his thighs lifting up but his upper body held still by Brendon. The thick come hit everything, it seemed - Ryan's hand, Spencer's jeans, the coffee table. Spencer shuddered a few more times, and Ryan could hear the wet sounds of Brendon licking to close the wound. He reluctantly let go of Spencer's softening cock, glancing at Brendon as he did so. Brendon's eyes were dark, but he was smiling a small, amused smile. Ryan looked away, trying to back his crotch away from Spencer's hip, but he'd seated himself in the corner, so there wasn't much room. Spencer was still panting and leaning against the back of the couch, his eyes closed.

Ryan licked hesitantly at his hand, tasting. Spencer's come didn't taste like Brendon's; more like Ryan's own. Not horrible, but it wasn't like he wanted to eat it for dinner. He wiped the rest of it off with a tissue from his pocket while Brendon watched. He threw it on the table.

"Thanks," Brendon said and stood up.

Spencer jerked his head back up and squirmed away from Ryan quickly.

"What, no," Ryan blurted, hanging on to Spencer's arm while Spencer yanked at his pants, trying to get them closed as fast as possible. "It's okay," he tried, but Spencer wouldn't look at him. He finished buttoning up his pants and sat there, in the middle of the couch, with his hands on his thighs. Brendon walked out of the room, and Ryan could hear him opening the door to the bedroom. Ryan felt a moment of frustration with Brendon for leaving him alone with Spencer, but maybe that's what he needed.

"Hey, Spence," he tried again. "Are you okay?"

Spencer breathed in, looking up at the ceiling. He laughed a little uncomfortable laugh. "Maybe not so much." He turned one of his hands palms up, flexing his fingers once, but if that was supposed to mean something Ryan didn't know what. "I didn't know you'd..." And then he blushed again, looking miserable.

Oh. Oh fuck.

"It's," Ryan said, feeling his eyes widening. If Spencer hadn't wanted. But hadn't he known what was going to happen? "I didn't mean - you were just so. I thought."

 

Spencer turned his face away, still red. "No, it's just weird. I thought... Maybe I didn't have to, you know." He made a vague gesture toward his crotch.

"Oh." Ryan thought about blaming it on Brendon, but that was a bad idea. Just because Brendon had put Ryan's hand on Spencer didn't mean it was Brendon's fault Ryan had kept it there. "I'm... sorry." But he wasn't really. He was sorry Spencer felt bad about it, but he couldn't bring himself to be sorry for jerking him off.

"I mean, was it some vampire pheromone thing or something?" Spencer looked temporarily better, but then he squinched his eyes up again. "Except that doesn't work on you, so."

"I was just trying to... make it better?" Ryan said quickly.

"It was already..." Spencer looked like he was searching for the proper word. "Good, or whatever. Look, I'm not gay. I didn't need that."

Ryan looked down. "It doesn't matter. I told you," he said, but he still felt like he had a hard knot in his stomach. Ryan knew Spencer would never want him without a vampire biting him. He did.

"It's okay, I just don't understand why you did it." Spencer looked confused, and suddenly Ryan couldn't stand it. He sniffled, and fuck, Spencer was going to think he was _crying_ when he just needed more decongestant.

"It doesn't matter," Ryan said quickly. "I won't again, I promise."

"Okay," Spencer said, and then Ryan couldn't take it anymore and went after Brendon to the bedroom.

 

***

 

Ryan sat down on the bed, after Spencer had let himself out. "That... might not have been a good idea," he said.

Brendon looked up from where he was lying on his back, whistling tunelessly. "What? He agreed, you agreed, I agreed. You wanted me to stay home - I stayed home."

"That doesn't mean it was a good idea," Ryan said morosely. Ryan knew that Spencer deciding that it was all too much and leaving would happen, eventually, but that didn't mean he wanted to rush it along.

"It'll be fine," Brendon said. "He'll get over it, learn to adapt." He pulled Ryan down next to him, fitting himself so that their bodies were intertwined.

"What do you mean?"

"He's a doll. He'll have to." Brendon sounded dismissive, and Ryan was suddenly angry.

"He's not a _thing_, you know," he snapped.

"Yes yes, I know, he's your very best friend in the world and rainbows come out when he shits and all that. I'm just saying that vampires will keep hitting on him now, and he'd better get over that thing he has about gender."

Ryan frowned. "What vampires?" he asked. "Are there that many around?"

"Not that many around here, but in other cities, further north, yeah."

Ryan climbed on top of Brendon, crossed his forearms against Brendon's chest and peered down on him. "Why would vampires hit on him then?" he asked.

Brendon trailed his fingers through Ryan's hair. It felt good. "They'll be able to tell. He's already been bitten. It's like a little sign with an arrow pointing down, blinking above his head. 'Good food here.'"

"Oh." Ryan huffed out a sigh. It wouldn't matter. Ryan doubted Spencer would ever move. He'd probably stay right in Summerlin all his life. Marry some girl in the vague future, when Ryan was gone, and live his whole life here, with his family.

 

"You still smell weird," Brendon complained. "I don't like sick people."

 

"Well fuck you then," Ryan replied sullenly, rubbing his nose against Brendon's shoulder. "It's not like I did it on purpose."

 

Brendon squeezed him a little, and Ryan pushed his forehead against his neck, settling for a nap. Brendon would wake him up in time to go home.

 

***

 

Ryan didn't find it hard at all to stay up waiting for Brendon to get back from whatever he was doing. Brendon's house wasn't all that lived in, but he had some interesting books and a small collection of music that didn't suck that badly. A lot of it was classical music, but there were some newer bands as well. He settled in the lone armchair by the wall in the living room and let _The Doors_ play while he browsed what seemed like a huge encyclopedia of mythical creatures. He looked up 'Vampire' for laughs, but the description and pictures didn't look any different than the information he'd seen in other books, on other sites. It was still interesting. There were pages full of encounters and discussion of supposed powers vampires had. He wondered how many of the contributors had actually met a vampire.

Brendon had told him he'd only be gone for a couple of hours, and to feel free to eat anything he could find. It wasn't like Brendon had a lot of food lying around, but there was the lemonade he'd offered before, and an unopened package of chocolate chip cookies. Also some cereal, and a bowl of apples that looked just the slightest bit wrinkly. The cupboards held little in the way of plates and glasses, but that was no surprise. Ryan stuffed the cookie package under one arm and made himself some lemonade. He wasn't really hungry, but he didn't want Brendon to think he was eating too little.

Being alone in Brendon's house was still a new thing. Ryan was happy Brendon trusted him enough by now, but he noted there wasn't anything that looked important lying around. He knew himself well enough to be grateful Brendon didn't keep anything like that in the house, that he could find, in any case. He was way too curious to leave things alone. It made him think of the Bluebeard fairytale, and he snorted at the thought of himself opening the forbidden door, unable to resist. Brendon would come rushing and chop off his head with a sword. Imagining Brendon with a blue beard was too funny. He wondered where Brendon spent his days.

He went back to the book, being reasonably careful not to get crumbs on it. They were good cookies.

Brendon came in about two - Ryan checked the clock on his phone when he heard the key in the door. Ryan still wasn't the least bit sleepy. He'd never been an early morning person, but this thing with Brendon took night owling to a whole other level.

"Find something to eat?" Brendon asked, grinning sharply at him.

Ryan put his book down. The package of cookies was empty, lying in a pool of crumbs on the small side table next to the arm chair. "Oh, yeah," he said, "'I like chocolate chip. You have a good time out there?" He still didn't know what Brendon had needed to do, and he was reluctant to ask.

"Mm, routine stuff," Brendon replied, throwing his keys on a shelf. "I'm hungry."

Ryan got up at once, his mouth suddenly dry. He licked his lips, stepping closer to Brendon.

Brendon looked at him, his gaze lingering lower before he looked Ryan in the eyes. "I'm going to fuck you."

Ryan felt a rush of _helpyesscaredthankyou_ and he was sure Brendon could hear his heart beat faster. He'd been waiting, to be honest - a bit surprised that Brendon hadn't done this earlier. It wasn't like Ryan could say no, and in the same situation Ryan wasn't sure he wouldn't just have taken advantage of that right away.

"Do you need the bathroom?" Brendon asked him. "I'll be in the bedroom when you're ready," he continued without waiting for a reply.

Ryan didn't, particularly, but there was no way he was going to risk having to go in the middle or anything, so, yeah. Bathroom. He washed a little bit, too, to make sure he wasn't, like, disgusting. Brendon didn't sweat, so he never smelled different unless he got dirt on himself. Ryan had tried to be good about his all-over hygiene lately, but a little extra couldn't hurt. As he dried himself off with Brendon's beige towel, he wondered if maybe he should have shaved instead of trimmed. He hadn't really asked what Brendon was into like that. Or if it even mattered. Anyway, it was too late now to do anything about it.

Brendon was waiting on the bed when Ryan opened the bedroom door. He was naked, lying pale and perfectly comfortable in his own skin on the unmade sheets. Ryan didn't think he could do the same, if it had been him there naked, waiting.

"Come here," Brendon said, and Ryan hadn't even noticed he'd stopped in the doorway. He came closer, until he was up against the edge of the bed. The bedside lamp was lit and the light was warm, yellow, softening Brendon's paleness and making it almost look normal.

"You want this, don't you?" Brendon asked, and again Ryan felt a little weird having to answer that, because he'd already given himself away.

He nodded, and Brendon smiled at him with his head tilted to the side, his messy hair falling a little bit into his eyes. It made him look harmless and young, and not at all like he could hold Ryan down and bite him. Ryan shifted his feet and looked away uncertainly.

"Don't worry," Brendon smiled. "You just take your clothes off, and I'll do the rest." He patted the space beside him, on the edge of the bed.

Ryan hesitantly sat down and twisted his hands in the hem of his t-shirt.

 

"There you go, take it off," Brendon encouraged him, brushing his fingertips along Ryan's waist, under his shirt.

Ryan shivered from the cool touch and abruptly pulled the t-shirt over his head. Brendon continued to touch him, along his waist and petting near his hip bone as Ryan twisted to get his jeans and underwear off. He dropped all his clothes on the floor along with his shoes. Then he was done and sat back down. He pulled one knee up on the bed in front of him and chanced another look at Brendon's face. Brendon was still smiling, and as soon as Ryan looked at him, he leaned forward to reach around Ryan, stroking with his palm all along Ryan's spine.

"Good boy," he said quietly, and that made Ryan feel a little better, like things were clearer in his head. "Come here," Brendon continued. He hooked his hand around Ryan's neck and pulled him down.

The sheets were a little rough against his naked skin, but it felt good. Brendon blanketed him and pressed him down, and that felt good too. His naked skin was cool, but not cold. Brendon's particular smell of copper and charcoal surrounded him as Brendon nuzzled his face into the side of Ryan's neck. Brendon ran his hands over Ryan's chest, his sides, like he was trying to calm him, but all it did was make Ryan want to arch up under Brendon's hands, to get more sensation. Brendon pushed with his tongue along Ryan's collarbone and shoulder, and Ryan twisted his head to the side to make more room for him.

Brendon's weight on top of him was something good, something centered into both of their hips. Brendon wasn't pressing down much, but there was possibility there, a possibility that made Ryan shift and spread his legs a little wider, dig his heels into the mattress and push up just a little. Brendon was almost all the way hard, and the firm shape of his cock was pushing into the hollow next to Ryan's hipbone. Ryan's own cock was getting some friction, but it wasn't nearly enough, even when he tried to shift into a better position. Brendon just pulled him back to where he wanted him.

"I wonder sometimes if you're really serious about this," Brendon said conversationally, holding Ryan's head still and stroking his thumbs into the dip under his jaw.

Ryan tried to open his mouth to protest, but Brendon pushed up with his fingers, hard, and his teeth clacked together and shut his mouth.

"Maybe you're too young, or maybe it's not really me you want." Brendon's voice was calm as he shifted position, sliding one of his hands over Ryan's mouth to keep him from answering. His other hand gripped one of Ryan's thighs, pulling his leg tight around Brendon's hip. Ryan could feel the muscles in Brendon's thigh and ass, harder and more powerful than they looked. Brendon reached for something out on Ryan's line of sight. "You don't even know me," he said. "You don't even know me, but you're still letting me fuck you."

And that was true. Ryan felt as comfortable as he thought he could be with Brendon, but he didn't know much about him. He hadn't asked him anything personal - Ryan had wondered if Brendon had any family, and what he was interested in past making sure he was fed. He had figured Brendon would tell him things if he wanted Ryan to know, but maybe that wasn't what Brendon wanted at all.

Brendon's eyes were dark, like they always were when he was about to feed, but there was something more there. Something maybe a little bit sad. His hand was still covering Ryan's mouth, and that's why Ryan's first startled moan was muffled when he felt Brendon's slick fingers dip in behind his balls, just skimming over the tight puckered skin. His thighs twitched, trying to close, but Brendon used his legs to keep him open, exposed.

"I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to stay quiet for me," Brendon said, leaving his hand over Ryan's mouth for a moment more, giving him a warning glance. Then he removed his hand.

Ryan licked his lips, almost tasting something metallic, but he didn't speak. If Brendon wanted him quiet, he'd do his very best to obey. He wanted to tell Brendon that this was the best thing that had ever happened to him, that he loved it, that he'd stay here forever if Brendon would just ask him to. He'd learn everything about Brendon and be the best pet ever. But there was no way to say it without speaking.

He spread his legs a little more, feeling Brendon squeeze his hip with one strong hand, just holding. Brendon's thigh was pushing one of Ryan's thighs up and to the side, and Ryan tried to relax into it, tried not to flinch again when he felt Brendon's finger back at his hole, pushing, testing. He had no idea what to do with his hands.

"I know you want me to," Brendon said, in that same calm voice, pushing his finger inside. Ryan tilted his head back and held his breath, so he wouldn't make a sound. "You'd like it even more if I didn't bother with this, just slicked myself up and pushed in." He punctuated his words with his finger, pushing deeper, fast and careless.

Ryan clenched around it, fighting to relax. His hips jerked up without him meaning to do it, but there was no way to escape. Brendon had a steady grip on his hip, and the way he pushed his thighs apart made Ryan feel overpowered, like there was nothing to do but hold on. He closed his eyes and pushed back, meeting Brendon's hand as he breached him with two fingers now. It felt nothing like doing it to himself. When he did it, by himself, in the shower, it was always easy. This was unpredictable, hard, impossible to relax into. It didn't really hurt, but there was an uncomfortable stinging burn that just wouldn't go away even though the slide of fingers was slick.

"Like this," Brendon said. "I'd open you up so hard, make you sore for me." He pushed another finger in and Ryan clung with the leg he had around Brendon's thigh, breathing out hard in his effort to stay silent. It was raw and overwhelming, and when Brendon forced his fingers further in and somehow _pushed_, Ryan felt his whole body tense. A small whining sound slipped out, and Ryan immediately slapped his own hand over his mouth, to stop himself.

"Yes, just like that," Brendon continued, and maybe Ryan's slip-up had been forgiven, because Brendon's eyes glittered hungrily when Ryan chanced a glance. Brendon's fingers slipped back out, and Ryan drew panted breaths through his nose, pressing his palm hard to his mouth. He'd never played around with proper slick, with lube, and it felt different, the slide so much easier, but it was so much harder to relax. He thought with a hint of hysteria that he'd better relax now, because Brendon was lifting him up by the hips, pulling him closer and lining himself up. His fingers were back, rubbing against Ryan's hole as if Brendon was trying to find the best place to push, and then there was the blunt press of Brendon's cock, wider than fingers and hard, uncompromising.

"Look at me," Brendon said. Ryan opened his eyes again. Brendon was hovering over him, the head of his cock still only pushing against him and not breaching. He pulled Ryan's hand away from his mouth, pushing his wrist down into the bed next to Ryan's head. Ryan bit his lip, fighting not to open his mouth and speak. A sharp prickle of want and adrenaline made his palms ache, a pressure build in his chest.

"You've been so good," Brendon said. "You don't have to be silent. You only have to look at me." Ryan sobbed out a grateful thank you. He wouldn't have been able to stay silent much longer, and he suspected Brendon knew it.

Brendon pushed his cock inside, fast and hard, and Ryan made a high, panicked noise, his hips trying to shy away from the sharp sudden invasion. For a moment, the pain was all he could feel, sweat gathering in the arched small of his back.

"No, _look_ at me," Brendon said insistently, and Ryan jerked his gaze back to Brendon's, surprised that he'd been looking at the featureless wall above the dresser. Brendon stayed still and motionless inside him, and he was breathing, in and out, as if he needed to. "You look me in the eyes," Brendon said, a concentrated frown making his eyes seem even darker than normal. His voice wasn't calm anymore. "I don't want you thinking of someone else."

Ryan started to shake his head in protest, no, there was no way he could think anything like that, but then Brendon started fucking him, bringing his other hand up to pin Ryan's free wrist to the bed. All Ryan could do was pant and whine through the dragging slick sensation of Brendon's cock making room for itself inside of him, again and again, while he fought to keep his eyes open and staring into Brendon's. It wasn't that bad anymore, after the initial shock of _toomuchtoofast_. Ryan wound his legs around Brendon's waist, and finally something started to feel better, like Brendon was pushing at something inside of him that made him breathless and wanting. He pushed back, trying for more of that feeling and pulling Brendon's hips closer with his legs. Every time Brendon pushed in, Ryan's cock got a tiny bit of friction between them, and that was something that was becoming more than good.

Brendon's mouth was open, and he was taking small measured panting breaths. His fangs were visible, and Ryan couldn't help looking at them, quick glances inbetween long moments of watching Brendon's dark unblinking eyes. "You want it?" Brendon asked, his voice a little hoarse, a little breathless. "Do you want it now?"

Ryan blinked and pushed a few more times into Brendon's thrusts. Even without a hand on his cock, it felt really good, the way it left him open, filled and stretched.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah, okay, do it," Ryan said, swallowing thickly around the words.

Brendon groaned against Ryan's neck, licking sloppily as Ryan turned his head to the side for him. Brendon let his wrists go to hold his head still, and then he bit down, hips stuttering in a shorter rhythm, uncontrolled. The pain was almost welcome, providing a counterpoint to the burn of the fucking. The smarting drag of blood being pulled into Brendon's mouth made it easier, letting Ryan relax and concentrate. Ryan closed his eyes and struggled to push his hips up, to get closer, more friction for his cock. Brendon was making little wet noises into his neck while Ryan panted and hung on, feeling something like an orgasm building slowly, almost too slowly.

Ryan realized that if he wanted to come while Brendon was fucking him, he should do something about it, because Brendon seemed absorbed in drinking and the accelerating rhythm of his thrusts, and not that inclined to do anything more than that. It was good, what he was doing, but Ryan wanted more than the accidental friction between their bodies. Spencer would have been able to come, just like this, Ryan thought, and imagined what Spencer had looked like, when Brendon had bitten him. He'd probably have come already. Maybe even twice. He worked his hand into the space between them and rubbed at his cock, not having enough room to do it properly. It still helped, and the slow build stepped up the pace, so that the jabbing thrusts inside of him and Brendon's mouth on his throat made him feel liquid and warm, the moments before he came stretching out beautifully like a perfectly balanced seesaw until the weight tipped over and it was all spasming muscles and loud moaning. Brendon fucking him through it was one of the best things he'd ever felt.

It didn't take long for things to get seriously uncomfortable after that, the friction of fucking suddenly much harsher, but it only took another minute or so until Brendon finally sucked hard on his neck and stilled, buried in him. Ryan could feel Brendon coming, inside, and it was seriously weird. Liquid. He felt lightheaded and sore, and Brendon was still hard enough inside him that it burned considerably when he squirmed uncomfortably. He grimaced as Brendon stayed where he was, lapping at Ryan's smarting throat. It felt raw, but was rapidly getting better.

After Brendon was done with the licking, he at last moved enough that his cock slid out of Ryan's ass, which was also very, very weird, and slightly painful, but Ryan didn't mind so much. His legs ached, and he was grateful to be able to put them down.

Brendon had stopped the panting, but still didn't say anything. He made no effort to look Ryan in the eyes either. The only thing he did was gather Ryan to him and spoon up behind him, nuzzling the back of his neck.

"I do want you," Ryan finally said quietly, but Brendon seemed to be pretending he didn't hear him.

Ryan guessed he'd just have to prove it instead.

 

***

 

Spencer made several attempts to talk to Ryan the following week, but he always seemed to abort at the last second. Like, Spencer would turn up and drag him out of bed. He'd sit on the edge of the bed while Ryan blinked at him sleepily, clearly trying to say something, since what came out were things like, "Um, so you know..." and "When I... I mean... never mind," and then he'd just wind up making Ryan go have smoothies with him, or people watch at the mall, and nothing serious would be said after all. Ryan considered calling Spencer on the whole thing, but he was too nervous Spencer might be trying to friend-break up with him to really do it. Instead, they spent a few days not talking about anything and having way too many smoothies, after which Spencer pretended that he had to go home and Ryan pretended he'd come by later.

Spencer would give him long looks that ended in hesitant pats on Ryan's arm, or his back, before he left. There were nowhere as many Spencer hugs as Ryan was used to getting, but Ryan couldn't even trick himself into thinking he'd expected everything to stay just the same.

Close to Fourth of July, Spencer did ask him if they were making homemade fireworks like they always did.

"Of course we are," Ryan said. He felt lighter all of a sudden. "I'm bringing the saltpeter. Does the lock on the garage door still work?"

"Nah, they took it off last year, remember?" Spencer said, smiling crookedly.

"Oh, yeah. We'll just have to wait until they're out." Last year had been a high point in their explosives career, but Spencer's parents hadn't seen the good of fifty beautiful smoke bombs all lined up on the floor in their garage. They'd confiscated the bombs and made sure the door between the garage and the laundry room was always open.

"I think dad wants to try that barbecue thing this year again, but I'll be over as soon as I can for yours." Ryan was reasonably sure his dad would be passed out before he'd even try to cook anything, so all he had to do was make sure no humans or houses were set on fire and that the passing out took place inside. Then Ryan could come eat dinner at the Smiths' like he always did.

Spencer seemed to be thinking the same thing. He looked more relieved than he had in days.

 

***

 

Brendon actually had a car, which didn't really surprise Ryan. It was just that he hadn't seen it before, since Brendon kept turning up places on foot. The car was black and sleek, but not really flashy. It had tinted windows, and Ryan found himself wondering if they were effective protection against the daylight sun or just there for the cool factor.

Brendon liked driving, which also was no surprise. The clock on the dashboard blinked 02:08 as they bumped onto a small gravel road outside the city. There weren't many lights out here but Ryan looked around anyway, trying to make out where they were going as he bounced in his seat, grateful for the seatbelt Brendon had insisted he wear.

"Where are we going?" Ryan asked.

Brendon smiled. "Surprise," he said.

When they stopped at an old all hours gas station that sported a sign of 'Huge fireworks! Enquire within!' a while later, Ryan looked at Brendon questioningly, but Brendon only smiled and shook his head. "Go get some snacks or something - eating is good for you," he said and handed Ryan a twenty.

Brendon wasn't in the car once Ryan came back, but he spotted him easily at the end of the gas station lot, walking slowly and stretching his arms above his head. Ryan smiled and dumped his purchases in the back seat. Then he walked up to Brendon, who turned around once he was close enough.

"All provisioned up?" he asked.

Ryan put his arms around Brendon's waist and leaned on him. "Yeah."

Brendon's cell phone rang, the plain bell sound cutting through the night. Brendon glanced at the display and then turned away, taking the call. Ryan didn't hear much of what he was saying, except for Brendon asking insistingly "Are you sure?" and later on a terse "I'll be there."

"Small detour," Brendon said with a tight smile as he turned back to Ryan, closing his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. He was already moving back to the car.

Ryan picked his way carefully back in the dark and climbed into his seat, closing the door as Brendon started the car and pulled out fast, nothing of the easy cruising of half an hour ago left in his movements. Ryan put his seatbelt back on before a pot hole brained him against the dashboard.

"What's wrong?" he asked, studying Brendon's expressionless profile in the murky shadows.

Brendon's mouth quirked up in a parody of a smile. "Some... complications," he said, and Ryan was suddenly convinced there was a lot more going on here than Brendon was saying.

"Where are we going?" Ryan asked. He wasn't sure he would get an answer.

"I'm sorry I can't drop you off first," Brendon replied without answering the question. "I have to take care of something quick. Just stay in the car. It won't take long."

The rest of the car ride was silent. Ryan tried to imagine what a vampire had to "take care of" that couldn't wait and came up with some chilling speculations. He didn't really want to ask, but at the same time he thought he should know. When Brendon took a sharp turn that pressed Ryan hard into the door handle he asked again. "What is it?"

Brendon laughed a little, a tense sound with no trace of happiness in it. He pulled into a parking lot at the side of what looked like a group of warehouses. Ryan had never seen the place before, but then he didn't make a habit of hanging around warehouses unless they were the kind that housed concerts. This looked more like actual storage facilities, except with less lighting than Ryan would have imagined was needed for security.

"Just stay in the car," Brendon repeated and braked sharply, stopping at the edge of the lot, close to the featureless dark facades. He pulled the keys out but left the lights on and was out of the car and slamming the door shut before Ryan could think to say anything else. He could see Brendon half running through the gap between two buildings and stopping in the dark right before he would be out of sight. There was something moving over there, and Ryan leaned forward in an effort to see what. It seemed to be another person, and Ryan could see Brendon and the other standing over something on the ground. It was hard to see what was there; the most Ryan could make out if he squinted was... lumps. Dark lumps on the ground. Brendon was kicking at them - no, turning one of the lumps over with his foot - and Ryan abruptly closed his eyes and leaned back into his seat. That was a dead body. He was sure of it.

Brendon came walking back, long strides that took him quickly to the car, and the other guy (other vampire?) came with him, but veered off behind another building before Ryan could get more of an impression than 'tall' and 'wearing a trenchcoat' of all things. Brendon opened the car door and Ryan looked over at him silently as he climbed into his seat. He had his cell phone out and was speaking into it.

"No, all of them," he was saying, "all three of them are dead." He glanced quickly at Ryan as he said it, and Ryan looked away, pretended he wasn't there. Ryan had never felt Brendon's age quite so keenly before. He felt like a child, relegated to his place while the adults did serious business. Except this time, the serious business involved dead bodies. Had the other person killed them? Had Brendon? Were they human or vampire bodies?

"It was definitely _not_," Brendon continued, sounding upset. "I think I'd know if it had been humans." There was a pause, and then the movement of Brendon's head of the edge of Ryan's field of vision, the sudden tension of his body, caught Ryan's attention. "I understand, Jon," Brendon said into the cell. "Okay. Okay, tomorrow - I need to wrap up some things." He didn't look at Ryan again, but Ryan wondered what was going to happen 'tomorrow' and he felt uneasy as Brendon ended his call and closed his cell. There was a moment of tense silence while neither of them looked at the other, and then Brendon put his cell away.

"I'll take you home," he said and turned the ignition. He looked into the darkness between the buildings and then abruptly turned around in his seat and reversed the car in a tight arc. Ryan jerked forward in his seatbelt and then back as Brendon accelerated quickly out onto the road.

 

***

 

Brendon hadn't told him anything more of what was happening - had just dropped Ryan off at home like he'd said with hardly a word. Ryan had stared after the car as it disappeared around the bend of the street, fast and with a lot of noise. It had been late, and Ryan had tried to get enough sleep that he'd be able to get up before noon and not be exhausted. Getting enough sleep was quickly becoming a problem, but it wasn't as if he socialized with a lot of people, and at least there was no school to worry about. Ryan didn't know what he'd do when his final year started up again. He hadn't asked Brendon about what his long term plans were, afraid to come off as too clingy. Maybe he'd ask tomorrow.

Ryan woke up around one, still feeling uneasy. The house was silent, so his dad was either at work or still sleeping. Ryan wasn't completely sure what day of the week it was, actually. It might be the weekend. He drank coffee and thought about Brendon. It wasn't like Ryan expected Brendon to always have time for him, or even to always be nice, but something about last night still felt off. He decided to go over to Brendon's house as soon as the sun set. He'd ask some more questions and not give up so easily today. Yesterday he'd been unnerved by Brendon's sudden terseness, and then by the _dead people_. He'd been too overwhelmed to even know what to ask.

Ryan left the house before sundown and drove over to sit on Brendon's small porch. He watched the shrubs in the garden and the few cars driving by while he waited for it to be dark enough. There was hardly any wind, and it was still hot. The sun set.

After half an hour with no Brendon appearing, Ryan stood up and knocked on the door. It wasn't as if Brendon didn't know he was here, after all. When he'd waited for a minute, Ryan tried the door. It was open. There were noises coming from the direction of the living room, and Ryan headed that way. He stopped in the doorway, watching.

Brendon was packing, several open boxes spread out on the floor. He glanced up at Ryan when he entered, and then went back to tossing books carelessly into the box he was working on.

Ryan felt his mind gradually grow empty as he watched, until the sounds of books thumping onto other books and the movements of Brendon twisting back and forth as he took them from the shelf and dropped them into the box were all that remained. Ryan sat down on the floor.

"Were you even going to tell me? Were you just going to go, and not tell me anything?"

"Ryan," Brendon said, still putting things into boxes.

"You were, weren't you?" It was like the ground had disappeared.

"I was going to write you," Brendon said, folding the flaps closed on a box. "Things have changed."

"Yeah, I got that yesterday," Ryan said numbly. "So what, you're just going to go? I'm not interesting anymore?"

Brendon sighed. "Look, Ryan, there's more going on here than you and me. I've been recalled to Chicaco. I can't stay here. That's not an option."

"Because of last night? And why can't you stay? What's wrong with, I don't know, visiting Chicago and then coming back?"

Brendon sighed. "You don't get it. I had a job here. The people I was keeping an eye on are dead. There's nothing more for me to do here."

"Nothing? I'm nothing?"

"Look, it was nice. We had a nice little piece of make-believe going on here, but I have to go, and you have a life here."

Ryan couldn't speak for a moment because of the flash of blinding hurt and anger. "You think this was easy for me? You think I was pretending, like, at all?" He climbed to his feet. No way was he going to stay in any kind of submissive position while this was going on.

"I get that this was something you needed, yes," Brendon said, "but you have family here, friends, a life. I'm not going to take that away from you."

"Oh my god _fuck you_! You think I haven't thought about this at all? You think summer was going to end and I'd be like, nice meeting you, bye bye?"

Brendon looked mildly uncomfortable. Ryan wished he'd at least look pissed off. Or sorry.

"So what's your housing situation in Chicago?" Ryan asked.

"What?" Brendon asked. He looked confused, which was possibly better than uncomfortable.

"You are not getting rid of me that easy. I'm coming with you." Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets. "Unless you just don't care," he said in a softer voice. "In which case I guess I'll just congratulate you on having me completely fooled."

"Of course I care," Brendon said, finally sounding more than irritated. "But that doesn't mean you should be giving up your whole life here."

"What life? Are you blind?" Ryan was shouting, but he didn't care. "My so-called family is an alcoholic who can't handle life. Spencer is my only real friend. Before I met you all I was doing was planning how to kill myself before I ruined people's lives too much." That was actually a bit more than he was trying to say, but this was too important to have any regrets, so he didn't.

Brendon stared at him, at last not doing anything but listening to Ryan. "Ryan..." he said. "What are you even going to do in Chicago? Sure, I could find you somewhere to live, but what would you do? You haven't even finished high school. You wouldn't be able to get a job. And if you hang around with me, all you'd do is sleep days and have nothing like a normal life at all. No nice, normal boyfriend, no college, no sunny days in the park..."

"Fuck that," Ryan said. "I'm living with you. And I don't want a normal life." He felt high on the freedom of saying it, just letting go of everything and going for what he wanted. He wasn't super mega experienced or anything, but the way Brendon had treated him before last night hadn't seemed like he wanted nothing but a summer fling. "I don't want my 'family' and I don't want this town. All I want is you."

Brendon was quiet for a long time, staring searchingly at Ryan. "Fine!" he finally said, one of his hands twitching like he'd rather throw it into the air in frustration. "Okay. All right. But we're going tonight. If you want anything from your house, I'll drive you by there and you can pick it up."

Ryan's phone rang.

Brendon looked at him, his face unreadable. "Better answer that," he said when Ryan couldn't make himself look away or move, and he finally reached into his pocket and opened his phone.

"What," he said into it, still irrationally afraid that Brendon might disappear if he turned around or looked somewhere else.

"I went by your house - did you already go to Brendon's?" Spencer's voice said.

Ryan's eyes widened. He hadn't even been thinking about Spencer for the last several minutes, and how fucked up was that? It didn't change anything, not really, but.

"Spencer. I'm going away," he said. Brendon raised his eyebrows, still looking at him.

"What?"

"I'm going with Brendon. You, you can't contact me. Maybe I can write you some time?" Saying it out loud like that felt awful, like it was all real now. He probably wouldn't ever even see Spencer again. Ryan wished he could take the words back, but it was impossible.

"..._What_?" Spencer said, sounding like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"So I'm sorry!" Ryan concluded. "I don't think I'm keeping this phone." Brendon nodded at him. Yeah, that was probably sensible. "I, I'll write you. When we get there. Bye."

Spencer was trying to say something, but Ryan didn't want to prolong what was happening any further than he had to, so he hung up on the upset "You can't..." and turned his phone off, shoving it in his pocket. Then he changed his mind and looked around the room until he just wound up dumping the phone in a corner, ignoring the broken-sounded clatter it made.

"Right," Brendon finally said. He started in on the remaining books. "I'll be done in a minute. You can go wait outside if you like."

Ryan stared at him. "I don't think so," he said. Even if Brendon could easily dump him there if he wanted to, Ryan didn't plan on making it easy for him.

Brendon sighed.

 

***

 

When they pulled up to Ryan's house an hour later, Ryan was prepared to dart in and out, only grabbing some clothes and keepsakes, but that plan was thwarted as soon as he saw who was standing in his driveway. Spencer looked some mix of relieved and pissed as Brendon stopped the car outside. He was also carrying a huge backpack. Ryan climbed out, unsure of what was going on.

"You fucking moron," was the first thing Spencer said, dumping his backpack on the ground and shoving Ryan in the chest as he got closer. Ryan stumbled, but didn't fall. "Go get your stupid stuff and your guitar. I am so mad at you right now, but there's no time."

Ryan looked back at Brendon, confused. He was sitting still in the car, an unreadable expression on his face. Ryan was suddenly afraid Brendon was going to drive away, leave him here, and he scrambled back to the car, but Brendon only sat there while Ryan yanked on the handle and pulled the door open.

Spencer rushed after him, catching his arm as he was trying to get back into the car. "No you fucking don't, fuckface." He jerked Ryan back out, making him almost fall to the asphalt. Spencer pulled him up and close, and Ryan felt almost scared at the look in Spencer's eyes. He looked like he could kill someone. Like maybe he could kill Ryan, but that just didn't make any _sense_.

"What?" he said stupidly, and watched Spencer's expression slide even more into angry, fucking furious.

"Are you serious?" Spencer shouted. "Did you think you could just leave me?"

Oh.

But.

"You don't want to go with me," Ryan said, watching the ground.

"What the fucking fuck?" Spencer continued. "You are _not. Leaving me_. That is not up for negotiation. I'm coming with you, but we have to go quick, before they notice."

"But you said," Ryan said, his stomach twisting uneasily, still holding on to the car door with one hand. "When I asked you... You said." He had trouble even thinking the words.

"What?" Spencer looked at him uncomprehendingly.

Ryan swallowed and tried again. "I asked you. You said you'd never leave them. Your family."

Spencer stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head. "_You're_ my family, Ryan. More than anyone. How do you not know this?"

"Could you maybe get in the car now before people come out here and stop you?" Brendon said.

Ryan looked at him, startled, but Spencer let go of Ryan's arm instantly and opened the door behind the driver's seat. He threw his backpack inside and was in with his seatbelt fastened before Ryan could even think of anything to say.

Brendon leaned his face into his hand, looking resigned. "Get your stuff, Ryan," he said. "Quickly."

Ryan glanced one last time at Spencer, who looked like nothing would be able to move him, and then turned and ran quickly to his house.

There wasn't much he actually needed. He found a duffel bag, threw in some clothes and underwear. He grabbed two of his latest notebooks and put them in the outer pocket. Not like there was much about vampires in there, just things about Brendon in general, but it was best not to leave anything incriminating. He looked quickly around his room. He didn't think there was anything else worth taking, although after debating quickly with himself for a moment he found the dusty case for his acoustic guitar and shoved the actual guitar inside it. Now. Now he could go.

Coming out of the the front door, he wondered if he should even lock the door. He could leave it wide open - let his dad think he'd been kidnapped or something. Maybe let the house be looted for whatever was in there.

Brendon tapped the horn, startling Ryan into motion. He locked the door on auto pilot, then stopped himself before putting the keys in his pocket. He threw them into the flower bed below the window instead. Let whoever found them keep them. He didn't need them anymore.

 

***

 

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked Spencer in a hushed voice as Brendon drove the car further out from the city, past the last suburb.

Spencer looked at him steadily. "I'm not letting you go, Ryan," he said. "Never. Stop trying to get rid of me."

Ryan glanced into the rear view mirror, meeting Brendon's dark gaze, and then back to Spencer again. They were on their way to Chicago, and Ryan would never come back here, ever, and all he could feel was relief. Some confusion, but still relief.

It had to be close to midnight by now, but he didn't feel sleepy. Spencer had begun to relax the deathgrip on his backpack, slumping down to rest his head against the backseat. When he closed his eyes, Ryan unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed over the middle into the passenger seat in front. Brendon turned his head at first, but kept driving in silence as he had been since the start while Ryan made himself comfortable.

Ryan let his gaze rest on the street lights blinking by in a shiny stream above the road. The sound of the wheels on the road was weirdly comforting, like it was proof that they were going somewhere. This was a defining moment of his life, he was pretty sure, but he didn't feel like it.

"What's in Chicago?" he asked quietly, when the dreamy combination of flashing lights and the drone of the road wasn't enough anymore.

"My... family. My work. Everything." Brendon kept his eyes on the road.

"Oh," Ryan replied. He hoped Brendon's everything had plenty of room for him. And Spencer.

It would work itself out when they got there.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Thank you pierson for reading every word as I was writing and putting up with the endless questions. Thank you sperrywink for an excellent beta. Thank you dexwebster for insightful comments. Any mistakes left are my own. Title is from Eric Serra.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [An Equiatic Bind (Disney for Dummies in Love Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/384408) by [sabriel75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabriel75/pseuds/sabriel75)




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